War on Dreams
by Critanium
Summary: 8 years after their time at Yamaku, Hisao and Suzu live together in Kyoto. Dream sharing technologies are invented, then immediately outlawed, restricted to all but lab scientists and the military. When the world changes in such a way, the people within are also changed. It just so happens that some are changed more than others.
1. Celestial Coveted

"Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes." –Carl Jung

The stars shone their full brightness this night. Unhindered by humanity, even the faint outline of the Milky Way was visible. They looked like pinpricks, revealing a white void beyond the darkness. In actuality, they were simply small points of light in a massive expanse of black.

The man smiled, returning to his ministrations on the device in front of him. It felt good to romanticize the stars. It never really was fun being rational. He carefully spun a dial on the side, making precise changes from a small pad of paper he held. The road behind him, with his vehicle on the side, had all but disappeared, leaving him alone.

Alone with her. He looked up from his tinkering to see that she had sat down on the cool grass, enjoying the night while it lasted. And last it would. Her turquoise hair shone in the moonlight, lumifying it in such a way that it looked almost fluorescent. He didn't need her to turn around to remember her bright green eyes, the whites contrasted with the omnipresent bags they carried.

Her head was cast upward, taking in the entire sight of the sky above her. It truly was breathtaking. And as the man fiddled with a smaller dial on the other side of the telescope, he wondered why he wasn't sitting next to her.

And so, dropping the pad of paper next to one of the tripod legs, he walked forward and sat next to the girl, who was taking a much simpler, but at the same time a much more richer view of the stars. This was how humanity viewed them for much of their existence. Try as he might, the man couldn't convince himself that there was any better way to view them.

They didn't need words to fill the silence, the silent melody of the night sky swirled around their ears. The crickets chirped their solemn song, an occasional owl was heard in the background. But for their sake, they could've all gone silent and they would've hardly noticed.

But the show had hardly begun. At that moment, preciscely at 23:45, a celestial show began for them. Tens, if not hundreds of light streaks filled the night sky. Tiny rocks burned brightly before they were swallowed by the intense friction the atmosphere provided. But to them, they were simply chords on the song sheet of the heavens.

He could hear the small gasp of the woman next to him, her awe circling around the two of them, consuming them both.

As all good things do, the show was brought to a short and swift end. The heavens were no less empty for it, as the stars now freely shone in the background, unhindered by the star of the show. Instinctively, the man turned left to look into her eyes. Deep pools of emerald filled his vision as he viewed into her soul, and the thoughts that lay beyond. Her eyes had small flecks of moisture in the corners, as if she was remembering a memory long since stored away. A memory that would've made her cry in the past, but now she was simply glad that it had happened.

Slowly, the man reached up a hand to brush a bang blocking her right eye. She blushed slightly at the touch, savoring the feel of his hands on her face. At that exact moment, he knew just what he wanted to do to her. They slowly moved forward, meeting in the middle. As their lips meet, even the celestial plane disappeared to them, for it was simply the two of them, together.

For that moment, nothing else mattered. Not to him, and not to her.

It really was one of his fondest memories.


	2. A Narcoleptic's Ninth Nightmare

To: Zephyr14

Subject: S Job

It's on.

Raindrops pattered against a wide window, driven on by coastal winds. The view revealed by the paned glass would've been majestic, overlooking the bay near Kyoto, if the low-lying clouds hadn't done their best in concealing it.

Cars, feeding the clouds above, zoomed off to parts unknown, driven by people unknown. One of these cars was different, a black sedan. It paid no heed to the speed limit as it zoomed, and stopped right beneath the window. 4 men got out, carrying duffel bags, and they slowly walked into the lobby of the tall apartment building.

Meanwhile, inside the hotel room, it seemed as if the two forms under Morpheus's influence could care less about anything outside of them. They shared their dreams as they played underneath the stars. Her muted green eyes lay hidden beneath her closed eyelids. They slept here, holding each other as if it would keep them together, forever.

"-not a problem, keep moving." Squaked one of the men's earpieces as they made their way up in an elevator. None of them knew each other, they didn't know each other's names, and they had no idea what lay behind the masks each of them had put on. What they did know, however, was a room number, a target, and an escape plan.

They each checked their guns, non-lethal, of course. The contractor didn't want any attention brought to their 'questionably' legal business practices. The click-clacks soon subsided as they each became satisfied with the weapon's condition. "No noise." Had been detailed multiple times in their short briefing.

"Voice check." One of the men said, voice digitally altered. The other 3 echoed back. "Check."

The man lying in the bed stirred a bit, tearing his face from his lover's gaze. He was clean-shaven, dirty blond hair dispersed itself among his unconscious features. The girl on the other hand had short, subdued turquoise hair, her bangs steering clear of her unaware eyes.

Her ears fluttered a bit as they filtered dialogue coming from the room over.

"…_protesters of the ban of 'Shared Dream Submergence' or SDS, continue to gather around the capitol building today. Prime Minister Shinzo has been adamant about his opposal to the technology, quote "It can only be used as a tool for subversion and trickery."…"_

The tinny voice ceased as the TV was turned off.

The 4 men passed through the hallways, not concerned with interference this late at night. They passed by a slightly open door, inside, a man spun a top, gun in hand. He didn't concern himself with the footfalls of the men outside. They rounded a corner, the room was at the end of the hall.

The man lying in bed stirred, then sat up, conscious. Something was wrong, normal paranoia just like any other.

Or was it? His mind echoed as he looked at the woman sleeping next to her.

Her nose wrinkled slightly, a response to an acrid odor making it's way underneath the door. Now he could sense it. The smell of burning? No, it was different, like some sort of chemical. It was accompanied with a small hissing sound, emanating from the door.

Outside, the rain grew in tempo, smacking against the glass harder and harder, drowning the work of the 4 men outside of the door.

The man carefully reached for his nightstand, keeping his eye on the door. He fumbled his hands around for the familiar, boxy shape. He grasped it, his fingers wrapping themselves around the handle, almost instinctively.

One of the 4 men operating a chemical cutter gave the others a short, curt hand-signal. He stepped back, placing the cutter back from whence it came. One of the others, his burly frame stepping forward, took position on the left of the door.

The man inside the room, or rather trapped inside, brought his hand out infront of him, pointing the black form at the door. It was hard to see in the darkness, but he knew it well. A simple 9mm pistol, a tool for defense, or for killing. Those two functions seemed to be one in the same at the moment.

He could see the light of the hallway being blocked by the feet of the unknown burglars. His heart rate increased rapidly, which would've threatened him in the past, if not for his new medications.

His glance was deflected over to the sleeping form next to him, she looked so peaceful. Their exit was blocked, the only other one would end in certain death. He was going to make a stand.

The burly man outside of the door extended three fingers to the others.

The man's lipped moved, silently expressing a phrase.

_I've got this. I've got this. She's safe._

He was deluding himself.

His heart stopped as the door slowly creaked open. His finger wrapped around the trigger, pressing down slightly.

It opened further, he could see the form of a man now.

He was about to shoot, he was ready. But before he could, a distinct sound of pressurized release could be heard, accentuated with something landing in his chest.

His finger slipped off the trigger, the gun fell to the ground. He teetered, his muscles weakening by every second. Eventually he collapsed backward, making a commotion as he knocked over a lamp. The cracking of the light-bulb echoed into his ears.

He could vaguely see a group of men entering his apartment. _Their _apartment. One of them came over to him, making sure he was out. A large man walked over to his bed, on the other side.

_No…_

His mind echoed that phrase, as if it could change what was about to happen.

The large man knelt down, and took a sleeping girl in his arms. She looked so fragile.

_Not Suzu…_ His mind rambled as he finally succumbed to the mysterious sedative.


	3. Shattered

"Did he see you at all?" A voice, hinted with age emanated from a public telephone.

The man answering it hesitated. He'd taken the boyfriend out quickly, but the sedative hadn't acted as fast as he wanted. The boss didn't like loose ends.

"Y-yes, he did. The darts didn't act quickly enough and…" He was silenced by a short 'tut-tut' on the receiving end.

"You know what to do." The old man replied, and shut off the connection.

August 31st, 2020.

But for Hisao, it could've been any day, of any month, of any year. It wouldn't change the fact that he was now a broken man without her.

Since the day she was kidnapped, of course he was a law-abiding citizen, he complied with the police, hell, he even hired an investigator. Not a goddamn single trace of her kidnappers. He didn't blame them, however. They were professionals, they'd probably trained for months just to kidnap her.

Eventually, after a few weeks, he gave up on the law finding her. Day after day he had asked, and day after day he got the same answer. _We're still looking for her._ The phrase was as ingrained in his mind as her tired smile, or her eyes that seemed to brighten in his presence.

She could've been out of the country by now and he wouldn't have known. And it was all his fault.

He had tried to protect her, and he had failed. To what, a dart? He was disgusted with himself. So, he'd practiced. He went to the range until he shot the bull's-eye every time. It took months, but he'd gotten himself a license for a more powerful weapon. It wouldn't bring her back, but in case he ever had someone else to protect, he wouldn't fail them this time.

He ran his fingers over his jawline as he paced down the sidewalk, not bothering to scoot over for anyone. Hisao hadn't shaved ever since his failure, and he'd grown a short beard that clinged to his face. His eyes, once vibrant with hopes and dreams, had faded into the murky cesspit he had found himself relating to more and more.

Not one day had he lived since then that he didn't think about her. He didn't allow him the luxury of tears, he simply bottled up the emotion inside. If… she was still alive, she wouldn't want him to cry.

His tired frame almost collapsed on a bus stop bench. He was out of his apartment to go buy the necessities that kept him alive. Not his old apartment, he sold that long ago when he all but quit his job, and the fees of the investigator got too high. He now lived in some ramshackle apartment that reminded him of the Kowloon walled city. The interior of his new abode fit his current condition, a husk of what he could've been.

He'd always dreamed of starving himself out or offing himself in any other fashion, joining her in the skies above.

But, he never went through with it. He was too weak for it. The barrel of his new purchase taunted him, looking directly at him every time he went to bed, and every time he woke up.

The bag in his hand was light. He never really felt hungry anymore. More often than not he had to remind himself that eating was for his survival. His cheekbones protruded through his paper-like skin, heavy bags had formed underneath his eyes.

If he were a more sane man, he might've attributed Suzu's insomnia passing onto him. He fondly remembered his high-school days with her, when they declared wars on their own dreams. The nights that they used to sneak out to go stargazing.

He gave a slight nod to the sky. It was raining more often recently, the clouds blocking the starry skies. Hisao still couldn't bear to look at the twinkling lights, as with Suzu, they only reminded him of happy times, long since wretched from his grasp.

In short, he was a fucking wreck.

The rain started again, first appearing as phantom drops bouncing off his skin, then turning into a steady drizzle. The gutter symphony began as raindrops bounced off of Hisao's leather overcoat. He'd worn it because he had expected it to rain. After all, the sun had left him behind.

Was this as low as he would go? Would he make some miraculous comeback? Could he go even lower?

He asked himself this as someone sat next to him. He gave the figure a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, then looked down again. He didn't really care.

The person next to him shifted, not to change positions, but to sit straight up, looking forward.

He wasn't one to become paranoid, but something rubbed him the wrong way about this whole situation. He kept bouncing the possibility in his mind, before a voice interrupted him.

"Hisao Nakai." The person said, in a strange, warped voice. They were obviously trying to disguise their natural tone of voice, but for what reason? Already Hisao's heartbeat was increasing in pace, not being helped by the fact that the figure knew his name.

"Look straight ahead." The mysterious person continued. It was a lighter tone of voice, almost like a woman? He followed the person's orders, focusing his attention on a telephone pole opposite of them.

Damn Japan for not allowing concealed carry.

He licked his dry lips, not having social contact as in-depth as this for a while.

"Who are you, and how do you know my name?" His words were slow and methodical, pre-planning his own moves.

The woman next to him didn't respond, instead deciding to cross her arms in front of her chest, keeping her left hand tucked underneath. He couldn't see her expression, but he could almost sense her… scowling…? Her expression suddenly shifted to that of mirth, a concept all but foreign to him.

"C'mon Hisao, you'd be lying if you said you didn't remember me." She didn't bother to hide her voice this time.

Hisao's face contorted into surprise, the neurons in his brain firing rapidly, bringing back painful memories. He hid this well however, managing to bring his eyebrows even lower.

"Miki Miura." He drew the last syllable out, tasting it on his cracked lips. He was experiencing a cacophony of emotions currently, all hidden inside his interior.

If one were looking at this conversation from the outside, they'd be mystified. One of them, a dark-skinned girl, looked pleased, while the other man with a sickly pallor slumped over, both of them staring straight ahead.

The bus rumbled around the corner, making Miki glance over in Hisao's general direction. She caught herself however, and quickly looked back her way.

She sighed, obviously not expecting this turn of events.

"Look Hisao, I know you have a lot of questions, and I can't promise you that I have all the answers." She sighed as the bus came to a stop in front of them. "But what I'm asking of you is to trust me."

She hadn't been through what he'd been through. Miki wasn't there for him when they took Suzu. Why the hell did she come here, now, saying that she had answers and expected him to follow her?

He was about to say no, before Miki interrupted him.

"It's the only way you're going to get her back." She said, her voice quickening as the clock was ticking. The bus driver cast an annoyed glare in their direction. "I know how much you've sacrificed for her, I mean jesus, just look at you."

He flexed his fingers into a fist. It took all of his strength not to punch her in the jaw.

"…but you're not safe. They're coming for you." His anger suddenly collapsed, filled with yet more questions. How did she know this? How did she know _any _of this? His mind flashed back to his school days, where Miki's silver tongue had convinced him more than once to do her bidding. He knew her, she wasn't one to have ulterior motives.

"And you know that I want her back as much as you."

Breaking their little code, he looked at his side, looking at her for the first time in 8 years. Her face had changed, she now looked the part of a young woman. Miki's trademark hair was shorter, now coming only down to her shoulders. She was wearing gray turtleneck with a simple chained necklace, bring attention to the simple blue jeans she currently had on. Her brown eyes that once held her mischievous glint now held only determination and courage.

She was nothing like the Miki he had once known, and at the same time exactly like the friend he once had. He wasn't sure which he hated and which he liked.

"Now c'mon Gaylord, clock's ticking." Her insult of choice caused Hisao's once omnipresent smile, albeit suppressed, to show once more. She stood up, and stepped into the bus.

It wasn't like him now, but for the first time in a while he actually felt some semblance of hope.

And so, with these thoughts in mind, he stepped onto the bus. The bus driver gave him a most peculiar look, before turning away as Hisao dumped whatever change he had on him into the small receptacle. Miki had sat near the end of the bus, taking the window seat.

The bus was nearly empty, the only people currently on the bus were right next to him. He stepped through the narrow median of the bus, carefully stepping around a pair of feet as he made his way to the back.

Miki patted the seat next to her, and so without any other feasible option, he sat next to her. Hisao exhaled out of his nose as he sat on the soft surface. He hadn't had comfort like this in a long, long time. Not that he denied himself of it, he just didn't think it mattered anymore.

She turned her head. "I'd love to answer all of your questions Hisao, but we'd better wait until we get to my place." Miki kept her head down, obviously paranoid about something. She was trying her best to hide it, like she did about all her problems. Suzu had told him about how she used to stay over in Miki's room to comfort her when she had her phantom pains. Almost as if his thoughts had triggered it, Miki ran her right hand over her stump.

He almost did a double-take. The omnipresent bandage that wrapped itself over her missing left hand was gone. Hisao didn't catch himself staring at it. It took Miki painfully jabbing her elbow into his chest to make him notice. She flashed him a look as if to say "It's not polite to stare." Her eyes seemed to carry her constant tone of sarcasm.

He resigned himself to leaning back in his seat, his back sending it's numerous thanks to his brain.

The rain grew heavier, slamming against the bus's windows with all of its incredibly small might. The urban jungle outside of his window turned into a blur as the bus transferred to the highway, inertia almost making Miki and Hisao's shoulders touch.

She didn't care, instead thumbing the pockets of her jeans as she tried to get a look of what was behind the bus. She hid her paranoia better than most people, but even Hisao could tell she was concerned greatly about something. The way her eyes shifted, checking every inch of the bus. She looked back out the window twice in succession.

Were they really this threatened?

The questions kept piling in Hisao's head, his dull eyes stood still as he tried to comprehend everything he'd been so suddenly thrusted into.

But he had one goal in mind, one thought that superseded every other. And as long as Miki shared that mindset, they might just get along.


	4. First Impressions

Suzu's eyes shot open, but she couldn't see the world around her. A wave of confusion rolled over her, did the power go out? Had she awoken in the middle of the night? It wasn't exactly a new experience for her. If she wasn't sleeping constantly, she had insomnia for hours upon hours. But even so, something seemed wrong.

It hit her like a sack of bricks, she was sitting. _Sitting?_ She thought, not sure if she was still suffering from morning confusion. She didn't trust her memory sometimes, it being full of unconscious holes, but something felt different. She'd fallen asleep in their bed, that was for sure.

Hisao, where was he? Her eyes searched the blackness around her. Surely her eyes should've adjusted to the dark by now?

She felt a slight pressure on her temples, was she getting a headache? She tried to move her hand to rub her forehead, but it wouldn't move. Her confusion was suddenly replaced with panic as she realized her current situation.

She was tied down. Now she noticed it, the smooth, nylon tying her wrists and ankles, the thick rope wrapped around her waist, the anchor point of the whole twisted setup. Why was she like this? Hisao and her hadn't done anything as… adventurous as this, but she knew he would ask before attempting something like this.

Suzu's nose absentmindedly tasted the air around her. It smelled dingy, a scent that hadn't been near civilization for awhile. The mildew she smelled also contributed to the atmosphere of the strange place she was currently in.

_How long was I out…? _Her mind still couldn't comprehend the obvious. Suzu wasn't to blame, she'd never experienced anything like this in her whole life.

Slowly, she put it all together. The fact that she was tied up, blindfolded, inside an abandonded place she assumed wasn't her apartment…

She'd been kidnapped, Suzu was certain of it. Her heartrate climbed, not helping her situation. _Where was I? Where's Hisao? What did these bastards do to him? _Her mind wandered, never staying on any particular question for long.

Her ceaseless wondering was suddenly interrupted, along with the beating of her heart.

Light footsteps sounded off, a slight crunching noise further indicating the condition of her prison. They grew louder, synchronizing with the beating in Suzu's chest. Her mind scrambled for a plan. Should she try to break out of the bonds? No chance, whoever had tied her down obviously put some thought into it. Scream for help? No way. If these kidnappers were as competent as she thought they were, she was miles from anyone who would bother to give her an assist. Pretend she was still asleep?

Before considering the cons to her new plan, she acted, drooping her head and pleading for her heart to slow down. The footfalls stopped just behind her, muffled by something. A door? Her question was seemingly answered by the slow creaking of a neglected door hinge. She slowed her breathing even more, whoever her captor was, he was right behind her.

They stayed like this for awhile, at least from her perspective. For all she knew, it was mere seconds before the captor behind her humorlessly chuckled, making a few more steps. The man was right behind her.

"Don't bother love, I can see that you're up and about, plain as day." The man's voice was refined, carrying a heavy English accent. On any other man, Suzu would've said it was lovely. She didn't need sight to prove that this man, was in fact a reptile.

Proving his prior point, he gave one of the chair's legs a little kick, causing Suzu to jump. So much for that plan.

The man walked away, toward the side of the room she was facing.

"Who are you?" She asked, more of a question to herself than to him. She was surprised by her own voice, she sounded weary.

Even though she was blindfolded, Suzu could see the man's smirk. "They call me Thom." He said with a small grunt as he picked up something from across the room. "But we're both intelligent people, dear, that's not my real name." His voice grew louder as Thom approached her, from the front this time. "Maybe if you're nice, I'll tell you."

Suzu scoffed as the sound of creaking wood reached her ears. What a charmer. She assumed they were sitting opposite each other now. A metallic thumping noise vibrated the table, it sounded like a briefcase. As if to prove her point, she heard a faint click.

Thom remained silent through all of this. The sounds of him working on… whatever he was doing blended together. A short sound of pressurized air emanated from the device, and a short, but resolute beep soon after. A few short seconds of respite before a strange sound, almost like rope going through a hole, wavered it's way around Suzu.

What the hell was this man doing? She found herself wondering before feeling a cold, but soft shape press against her wrist.

"Wouldn't want you to get infected, would we?" His voice wrapped itself around her throat, seemingly strangling her. What did he mean by 'infected'? Her questions were soon answered as she felt a sharp pain enter her wrist, soon replaced by a dull ache.

An IV? What was it filled with?

She heard the sound again, she assumed it the IV line. After a few short seconds, the creaking of wood announced Thom had taken his place opposite of her again.

"No questions?" He asked, his voice moving toward her slightly.

"Good, you're late for your training."

She was about interrogate him before she felt a foreign fluid enter her vein. Suzu felt something grip her chest, like a vice. She suddenly felt exhausted.

After a few short seconds, she succumbed to the night maiden's embrace.


	5. Meet the Team

The rain had ceased for the time being, instead it threateningly grumbled as the low clouds swept through Kyoto's skyline, which, as he noticed, was far into the distance, almost framing the sun as it crept lower and lower into the evening sky. He cautiously stepped down, out of the bus. Miki soon followed him, her shorter hair swaying slightly in the breeze. The same wind brushed and lapped against his clothing, causing his overcoat to flap around, as if it had a mind of it's own.

"Thiiiiiiiii…" She dragged the word out, looking around for a landmark to orient herself. Miki knew that they were at least in the same district as the safehouse, but they had always approached it from the other side. The buildings around her were foreign, their gray shapes not recognized by the other gray shapes she had known. Not the best idea to meet a friend you haven't spoken to in 8 years in of all places, a bus stop.

Miki's wide eyes turned into a scowl, signifying her defeat against the unfamiliar landscape. "C'mon." She said, dragging him to the right, down the sidewalk. Hisao shook off her vice grip and walked alongside her. She was less paranoid now, but she still remained wary, observing every person who passed them carefully.

She almost bumped into a little girl as she was squinting at a man in a trench coat. She mumbled her apologies and caught up with Hisao.

"Why are you so paranoid?" Hisao asked suddenly, stopping in his tracks. Miki's eyes opened wide, what, did she think she was stealthily checking over her shoulder every minute or so?

After a second or so, Miki seemed to gather her thoughts. "Sorry…" She said, bringing her shoulders into a light shrug. "Just a little on edge."

"'A little on edge' isn't checking over your shoulders every 30 seconds Miki." He turned around, looking directly at her. She seemed shocked, as if she was doing it unconsciously. Was she?

"I… uhm…" It was the first time in awhile that he saw Miki struggle for words. She was usually quick with the comebacks, and never really had trouble managing a tricky social situation. Ms. Miura always had a certain talent when it came to people.

"You're asking a lot of me, trusting a person who left us 8 years ago." Hisao continued, taking a step toward her, muscles tensing in his increasing anger.

"I didn't-" She began, but he cut her off.

"Where were you when she disappeared, huh? Maybe I wouldn't be such a fucking wreck if I had a… friend to share it with, if I can even call you that anymore." He flexed his fists, an unconscious reaction to this whole situation. His anger wasn't loud and boisterous, rather it was quieter, subtler. It was the kind of anger you would associate with a normally calm person who'd been pushed over the edge. In Hisao's case, he'd been pushed over the edge, shot, poisoned, hung, burned, blinded, and scarred.

His anger was currently telling him he hit every rock on the way down. And right now, it felt good. It felt great to release all the pent up anger he'd been harboring ever since Miki came so suddenly back into his life.

After he was finished with is rant, Miki was stunned momentarily. Her face contorted as she tried to make sense of what he had just said. That she didn't do anything about it? Her expression suddenly and started walking rapidly in their current direction of travel, ignoring the constant questions he was supplying. At one point, he almost sounded bewildered, and it was hard for Miki to suppress that smile.

The people they passed on the sidewalk gave them confused expressions. _Good. _She thought, her mind only focused on getting to the safehouse, _Maybe then Hisao will finally feel something._ She couldn't lie, it was fun dragging him around like this, almost as if they were kids again. She suppressed that pang of emotion as she continued her pissed-off façade.

Meanwhile, Hisao had no idea what was going on. He expected her to avoid his questions, or even apologize, but here he was, being dragged along by the person he'd been screaming at moments earlier. He tried to get a better look at her, to see if this was just another one of her acts, but no dice, she was serious.

He sighed as they continued to attract more attention from the pedestrians on the sidewalk. For a so suddenly paranoid girl, she seemed pretty okay about all of this. Then again, maybe she had a point to make.

As if Miki had heard his thoughts, she suddenly stopped at a small green door, tucked between two storefronts. He'd noticed that they had been heading into the seedier section of town for awhile now, and the door he stood infront of seemed to complete the illusion.

If fumbling for a key could be seen as angry, Miki managed it. She shoved her right hand in her pants pocked and rumbled about. She drew out a small brass key, which she shoved into the door, turning it as if her life depended on breaking that door. Not that it would've taken any special effort, it looked about as sturdy as a fence on beach dunes. She managed to get it open, the door opening all the way. In front of them was a staircase that lead upward, the sole lightbulb illuminating the staircase flickered lightly, casting the entire setup in an eerie glow.

"This is considered 'safe'?" Hisao asked, not really expecting an answer. Instead, Miki continued her vice-like grip on his arm, almost throwing him up the steps. They creaked underneath him, the wood threatening to give under their combined weight. How was this a safehouse? A small child could easily break down the door, why keep it locked.

They reached the top of the staircase, and this is where it became apparent. Miki wasn't kidding. The door here was made out of some type of metal, most likely steel. There was a keypad on the side. An electronic lock? She started to type in a combination, jabbing the keys with her index finger. Miki was hard pressed to keep this act going for long. She stepped aside to show Hisao the combination.

6E2FA.

Hexadecimal? That was a new one. He memorized the combination as the door hissed opened, being kept in place with pneumatics. Where had she found this place? He wondered this as Miki stepped into the room beyond. It was dark, he could hardly see anything. Miki fumbled alongside the left side of the wall with her hand… er… stump. Eventually she found what she was looking for, a short click emanated from the wall, and the entire room infront of him lit up.

Hisao stepped into the large room, the florescent lights finishing their routine. His jaw dropped. Computer equipment was scattered around, one of the corners being dedicated to the tech. Another corner held a few cots, along with the same kind of curtains you would see in field hospitals. In the middle of the room was a large whiteboard, absolutely littered with pictures, documents, and post-it notes. 5 chairs lay unused by the whiteboard, waiting to be filled by a team in briefing. In a corner near the back, 5 recliners sat around a central table. A small crate sat in the opposite corner, strangely isolated from everything else.

The room itself was painted a light blue color, the paint chipping in some places, a testament to the neglect this place had suffered before they moved in. There was some detritus scattered on the floor of the room, mostly concentrated near the computer area and the white board.

He wondered, what were those recliners for? He didn't think it was meant for the express purpose of luxury, there had to be something else about it.

As he took all of it in, Miki spoke up.

"You see this Hisao? All of this? While you were moping around on your ass all day, I was here, looking for her." As much as he wanted to sock her in the face again, she was right. He'd hadn't actually done anything to help for her search. 3 hours ago, this thought would've sent him into another bout of his depression, but somehow it gave him hope.

She sighed, more as a relief that she didn't have to act the hard-ass anymore. "Look, the others will be here shortly, then we can begin explaining to you all of this."

Others? What others?

"How many?" Hisao asked, trying to make out the writing on the whiteboard. It looked more like scribbles to him then anything else. Even so, something jumped out to him, a picture lay in the center, connected to others by strings of yarn. It depicted a large metal briefcase, which lay closed on a table. He could at least make out the scribbles underneath it.

"PASIV Device" bore the inscription. He'd heard that name before. In the news? Wherever he had heard it, he could recall it now. He turned to Miki, filled with even more questions, but the cat-like grin had returned to her face. He'd remain in his current state until the other's came. He sighed, sitting backwards on the chair to face Miki.

What a shit-eating grin. It was the kind of smile you wore when you completely exceeded their expectations. For now, she had. Hisao was honestly pretty impressed with the girl. Before, he wasn't sure whether she even meant her words or not, but now Hisao had no doubts. Miki meant business.

She wanted her friend back as much as he wanted his lover.

They stayed here for awhile, around 20 minutes. Miki eventually took position on one of the chairs next to him, leaning it back as far as she could without falling. Hisao watched this charade, waiting for the moment that she would fall backwards on the ground. The silence was almost oppressive, would it kill her to get a couple of fans in here?

At that moment, he could faintly hear the sound of a door unlocking, and the same creak he had heard earlier. Miki almost fell backwards to the sudden noise, thankfully catching herself and righting the chair. Hisao found his heart-rate quickening. He'd have to remember to grab his meds when he went back to get his stuff. He assumed from the cots that Miki intended this place to be a bit more than just a planning room.

He turned his attention back to the door, he heard the steps creak as one… no two pairs footsteps made their way up towards them. Miki exhaled through her nose, a smile appearing on her face.

He heard the muted beeps of the keypad. Whoever was typing on the keypad was doing so rapidly. A loud, muted beep emanated from outside the door, and a bout of grumbling followed it. Miki's smile grew even wider.

"New passcode's 6E2FA, dumbass." She yelled at the door. A short pause before Hisao heard the beeping again, this time the hissing of the door was heard, and it was slowly pushed open. He heard a pair of heavy footfalls come through the door.

"HISAO!" The man screamed, walking toward him, gesturing wildly. "WHY ARE YOU WITH THIS GODDAMN FEMINIST?!" His screeching made Hisao nearly cover his ears. The man stopped mid-stride, looking directly towards Hisao.

All of a sudden the man started laughing uproariously, and it took him a good while to calm down. "I had you for a second there bro."

Kenji Setou, his only male friend from Yamaku. The sole leader against the feminist armies was here, working for a woman? Kenji either had changed greatly, or he was about to pull Hisao aside and tell him he was doing undercover work.

"I guess that's my cue to come in." A much more measured voice came from behind the door, and out stepped a woman.

Well, it was hard to tell, she certainly had an androgynous quality about her, but Hisao knew her well enough to know that it was still the same Akira Satou. She had cut down the indeterminate mop of hair she once had, and most of the rest was hidden between a black newsboy cap, save for the sides. She was wearing a black suit vest, with matching slacks.

She smiled, echoing Miki's words from hours ago. "Jesus Hisao, you look like shit." This elicted a laugh from Miki. Akira smiled, a grin not unlike the one Miki bore when she knew she had the upper hand. These two girls quite alike, it was no wonder how the two became friends. She walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs, leaning back.

She was a strange person alright. For someone who almost always dressed formally, she was one of the most informal people he'd ever met. That and Kenji, who still stood, hands in his pockets. As if Miki had heard his thoughts, she nodded over to Kenji, who stood there dumfounded for a moment before suddenly realizing that he had something to do.

Kenji strode over to the corner filled with computers, he sat in the chair, a hearty pomf escaped from the pillowed seat. Hisao began to hear him typing on the keyboard. He did so for 10 seconds or so, before reaching for something on the desk, a remote? He pointed it above their heads, and only then did Hisao notice that he was sitting underneath a projector.

He rotated around in his seat. Miki had flipped the whiteboard to the other, thankfully clean side. It made a makeshift screen for whatever they were about to show him. The fans of the projector above him hummed to life, and a dull light began to flicker on the whiteboard, gradually becoming clearer. It was a document.

_Dream Sharing: An Introduction_

He couldn't make out the author's names at this point, but he didn't need the projector to be warmed up to see the gigantic red stamp that read "Confidential" that lay across the screen. He heard the steps of Kenji coming back, carrying the remote.

"Oh man, this is gonna blow your mind dude." He said as he walked past Hisao. Turns out, Kenji hadn't changed, he just found another conspiracy to latch onto. At least this time it was possibly real.

Miki stood and cleared her throat. "I won't mince words here, Hisao, we think we know why Suzu was kidnapped."

He didn't show any signs of a reaction. That's the reason they brought him here right? They wouldn't have brought him for any other reason, or so he hoped.

"Kenji, page 21." Miki said, looking off-center.

"You're the boss." Kenji replied as he stretched his hand backward to control the projector. Brief flashes of the other pages appeared on screen, he saw a couple diagrams, one of a metal briefcase, another of a giant 'X' over what he assumed was a house. Eventually, Kenji managed to get it to page 21. There was a title at the top, labeled 'The Host'.

He quickly scanned through the document.

…_extractions more complex than a single level require a host to remember the information. It is not known at the time, but the host must have slightly altered brain chemistry in order to retain the information. This required brain chemistry is observed most often in individuals who suffer the condition known as 'Narcolepsy'…_

Hisao stopped, reading over that line several times before the full weight of the information hit him.

Suzu hadn't been kidnapped for money, she'd been kidnapped to be an information mule for criminals. Honestly, Hisao couldn't fathom which was worse.

"I…see…" Hisao's exterior began to crack, the same one he had built when she had disappeared. He exhaled sharply, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He looked back up, Miki looked him with an aura of concern.

"What's our plan?" He said quickly, giving Miki her cue to monologue.

"Well, the authorities haven't helped us." She said, referring to the techniques Hisao had tried earlier. "They're professionals, and they just so happen to be extractors."

"Extractors?" Hisao questioned.

This time, Akira spoke up. "People who go into your subconscious to steal the information…" She knocked the side of her head. "…right within here."

"So you're telling me that they kidnapped Suzu to help steal information from a person's brain?" Hisao asked, still bewildered by the whole situation. He rubbed the side of his cheek, feeling the scruff underneath his fingers.

"Pretty mu-"

"And how exactly are we going to get her back? I hope it's not your usual idea of shooting everywhere until we find them." Hisao interrupted.

Miki frowned, the same kind of frown she showed when she was trying to get a reaction out of someone. "I'm offended that you'd even think that was my… only plan."

If Hisao were a different man, he might've laughed. And indeed, years ago, he would've.

"Kenji, slide 13." Miki nodded.

The blur of slides continued, backward this time, before it reached the slide. He'd seen this one before, the diagram of the briefcase. Below the picture, it was entitled 'PAISV Device'.

"What's that?" Hisao asked.

"That, Hisao." Miki stood and walked over to the whiteboard, flipping it over again to the messy side. He noticed that the diagram and the picture of the center matched.

"Is our plan."

"A briefcase is your plan?"

"No." She scoffed, as if she expected him to get this in 5 minutes. This was the first time he'd ever heard of this.

"To find the extractors, we have to become extractors."


	6. Don't Think About Elephants

Suzu sat at a café table, her hand supporting her head as it drooped further. As if by muscle memory, she slowly laid her head upon the table, ready for her next sleep attack.

But it never came. Confused, Suzu sat up once more. She didn't feel tired at all, her green eyes brighter than ever, the bags underneath her eyes were gone.

That was new.

She regarded the landscape around her. The blue café table contrasted well with the blue asphalt, combined with the blue sidewalk, mixing with the blue trees. She smiled. This all felt so normal. Suzu leant back in her seat, content to sit here awhile longer.

Something twinged at the back of her mind. Neurons fired as she tried to make it out. A voice commanded her to leave her seat, she couldn't place a face to the strange noise, but nevertheless, she followed. She stood on heavy knees, moving aside as she pushed her chair in. The cup of water she had been taking fickle sips of tipped slightly, the water inside becoming offset.

She didn't notice this however, and she moved around the corner of the small café. She put her hands in her pockets, looking down. She was wearing some kind of… suit vest? Suzu didn't question it, and instead kept moving to where the voice was demanding that she go. The landscape around her became a blur, but she didn't notice.

Suzu was standing in the middle of a large avenue now, the road cutting through tall, monolithic buildings in both directions. She couldn't see where it ended, but she saw something further down the road. Her clothing was indeterminate, but her blond hair was like a lighthouse in the darkness. The voice called to her, it was a siren's song. Gradually, she found herself moving toward her unconsciously. She was getting closer.

"I wouldn't get near her if I was you." A much darker voice, one that cut the song in half and wrapped it around a pike. Suzu turned around, Thom stood behind her, but he was looking into the distance, towards the strange blond woman.

"Who is she? Shouldn't she get out of the middle of the road?" Suzu asked him.

Thom looked down to her, then smirked. "Do you see any cars around us?" He gestured around him.

The road was entirely devoid of cars, or pedestrians for that matter. Why would an entire city block be deserted like this? The windows around them were devoid of human life. Suzu looked back down the road, but the woman was gone. It was just the two of them.

"Wha-?" She began.

"Think about it Suzu, didn't you find it hard to walk over here?" Now that he mentioned it, it felt like she was walking uphill, but the terrain was completely flat. As if to illustrate his point, he picked up a pebble and threw it on the ground, it started to roll towards them, then behind them. Why was that happening?

"Where did I get that pebble Suzu?" He continued his questions. The avenue was paved perfectly flat, and not a blemish existed on its surface. Where did he get the pebble from? Thom continued his glare, almost as if he was trying to get Suzu to realize something.

She looked around her, and realized something. They weren't in Kyoto anymore, in fact, Suzu had no idea where she was. The buildings around her were all the same height, and looked identical. Blue glass covering blue interiors. The roads and avenues had no markings, simply rivers of pitch black headed on routes to nowhere in particular.

"They say that you never remember the beginning of a dream, that you're always somewhere in the middle. Tell me, how did you get to that café?" How did he know that she'd been at a café?

In fact, at that café, why was everything blue? Even the trees were the same, dull, muted blue. It almost reminded her of her hair colour. And the color here… still blue? She looked at the windows around her. They were almost like mirrors, reflecting back and forth until it looked like there was an army composed of Thom and Suzu.

And it was at this moment that Suzu realized something, that this couldn't exist in real-life. Her mouth dropped slightly as she became lucid for what seemed like the first time in her life.

"It's a great feeling isn't it?" Thom said, walking past Suzu. "The feeling of exhilaration, discovery, perhaps even a thirst for… what lies beyond?"

How had she fallen asleep? This Thom wasn't real, but why did it feel like he was?

"…How?" Was all that Suzu would meekly squeak out.

"Right now, we're both connected to a device that lets us share dreams. You've most likely heard about it on the news, haven't you?"

"Wait… who's dream are we sharing, yours or mine?" Suzu's curiousity started to get the better of her, she hated the feeling, but she wanted to know more. This world where she spent half of her time, and now she could control it? The feeling was… strange, but certainly not unpleasant to her. She held power here, a luxury she couldn't afford in reality.

"Your's." He replied, staring where the blond woman had been. "You're lucid now, which means to some extent you both consciously, and subsconsciously control the dream.

Suzu was stunned. She could change this world, mend it into her own vision?

"Alright, for your first lesson; don't think about elephants."

"What?" She looked to her left, in the quiet, frozen city, she could clearly feel the vibrations rumbling through the concrete. A line of elephants emerged from one of the side streets, one of them sounding off it's horn. Their grey, slightly dirty skin brought a sort of imperfection to this perfect world. They continued on before they were swallowed by the other side.

"Amazing, isn't it? Our minds both perceive and create the world at the same time, the amount of possibilities you can build in here are truly limitless." Thom said, almost like an excited school-kid. Her kidnapper surely had a passion for this sort of work.

He sighed. "Listen I'd love to sit here all day and see what we can get up to, really I would, but you need to learn."

"Learn what?" Suzu questioned, cocking her head.

"You're learning how to steal, my dear."


	7. Grey Goals for Grey Ghouls

"…and these are the IV cables for delivering the drug… Soon-a… Som..a?" Miki struggled on the unfamiliar word, pointing to the cable spool in the diagram. The diagram was of the same briefcase he had seen earlier, now open, showing its complex exterior. Countless shapes and angles cluttered the interior, bringing attention to the raised button in the center. It was almost designed for a person to want to push it.

Akira spoke up from the back, she'd taken a low slouch, and her lower back was in danger of falling off the seat. Her hat lay discarded on the chair beside her.

"It's Somnacin, sweetheart." She smiled, as if she had found some way to gain the upper hand again. "It's a powerful sedative that allows two people or more to link their consciousnesses."

"Right…" Miki said, her finger drooping slightly. "Anyway, you instert the needle into your wrist, or in my case, the stump." She said, pointing to her non-hand. "Press the button, and boom, you're out."

Hisao had been listening intently this entire time. When Miki had said they had to become the enemy to find the enemy, his entire perspective changed. If Miki was willing to do this, as were Akira and Kenji, not only would they be risking 10, possibly 15 years in jail, but also their lives. They'd also be angering whatever corporation they were stealing Suzu back from. At least, that's what he assumed. Extractors were usually hired by them, either to commit corporate espionage or to steal expansion plans or what have you.

He casually held up his hand, a signal for Miki to stop ranting. "Do we have this device?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the diagram.

"Uh, no. Not yet." Miki said, as if she were treading on eggshells. She might've well had.

Hisao was about to continue before a voice interrupted him from the back.

"Chill bro, I'm sourcing a dealer right now." Kenji's voice suddenly erupted, accentuated with a couple more key presses.

For the time being, Hisao was slightly glad that Kenji wasn't hung up on the 'feminist conspiracy' anymore. Now, he was useful.

"Do you even know if you have enough funds for this device?" Hisao continued his questioning, earning him the creaking of the chair behind him.

"It's not going to cost money, Hisao." Akira's voice was slightly distant, as if she was pondering something. She'd sat up now, slouching forward instead of backward.

"…It's going to cost a job. Typically an extraction." Miki finished, arms crossed.

"Why would they do that? Isn't it easier to get material worth for it?"

"Most of the sellers work for corporations. They're kinda like talent scouts. The corporation has it's own interest, and due to a shortage of extractors in Japan, they'll gladly give any team that comes along an audition, if they do good, they're… kindly asked to continue to do jobs for said corporation."

"And if they don't do as well?"

Akira grimaced slightly. Hisao hadn't expected her to have this much experience in this field.

"Let's try to do the best we can." She gave him a weak, perhaps even a weary smile. Akira seemed… distant on this topic. What had happened to her? For now, he let the topic drop.

Miki seemed eager to change the topic. "Well, I guess that brings us to roles." She said, taking the opportunity to sit backwards on one of the chairs infront of her, the wood giving a slight creak as she put her weight on it.

"We need to have 'roles'?" Hisao questioned, turning his gaze to Miki.

"Well, yeah. Kinda like how bank-robbers pre-plan how they're going to steal stuff."

"And we're the robbers, stealing from people's minds?" Hisao was still boggled by the other three's commitment to this. What they were doing was black and white, certainly illegal. But did having motives that were grey justify the crime?

He told that particular side of his brain, the rational side, to shut up. He may not look like it, but Hisao was a man presided over by emotion, even if he never showed it.

Miki looked up to the left, as if in thought. "I guess so, yeah." She seemed pretty unfazed about the potential, heavy crimes she was discussing. Did she not think much of the consequences? Or did the safety of one of her only friends override that particular thought?

"Anyway," Miki said, bringing the conversation back to her. "I'm the Forger." Hisao didn't need to ask her what that was, she continued anyway. "Basically, if we need to get information from the Mark, I can disguise myself as someone he or she is close to." Miki seemed like the perfect fit for this type of work, judging on how well she interacted and could influence people, namely him.

She didn't need to say it, he assumed that the 'Mark' was the target of their grey goals.

Miki was about to continue her verbal torrent before Akira interrupted her. "I'm the Architect, I design the layout of the dream we're entering." This confused him, creating a dream? How was it possible to acquire enough detail to make the subject think that they're dreaming?

"Why would you need to do that?" Hisao asked, looking behind him. Kenji made a small utterance from the corner.

"Because, depending on the job we're doing, we need to build varying constructions so that the mark can fill them with their secrets." Akira said, tuning back to that 'matter-of-fact' tone she was probably all too used to reciting.

"Alright…" Hisao said, this was new to him, but he was learning quickly.

"What does Kenji do?" He pointed the question to Miki.

"Him?" She asked, gesturing toward the enclosed cocoon of electronics they at least assumed Kenji was in. "He's the Point-Man, in charge of gathering information." Sounded like a job that fit Kenji alright, but something nagged at him.

"That's the only thing he does?" Hisao asked. Kenji either didn't care about the three of them talking about him, or he didn't hear.

"You'd be surprised how important information is in our line of work, Hisao." Miki flashed another cat-like grin, like he had fallen into another one of her traps.

So, that was all of them sorted out, or well, most of them.

"What role am I? I should guess that you of all people would make me pull my weight."

Her grin shot to the heavens. Hisao silently cursed himself for falling into yet another trap. Hisao supposed of all people, she'd make one of the best Forgers. Her hand might be an issue, however.

"Why Hisao, you're the Extractor." She said, the grin somehow remaining plastered to her face.

He didn't get the chance to ask for her to define that occupation.

"As much as I hate to say it Hisao, you're the leader." He didn't know if she was joking or being serious, but the subtle glint in her eyes confirmed it, he in fact, was the leader.

Akira gave a sage nod behind him.

He took a few seconds before responding. "Why am I the leader? I don't know anything about this kind of work." Kenji's key presses escalated in intensity after he finished.

This time, Akira herself spoke up. "None of us really do, Hisao. I'm the only one here with some experience."

"So we're making this up as we go along?" Hisao asked, slightly trembling. He didn't want her safety in the hands of people who hadn't a fucking clue what they were doing. A bunch of law-abiding citizens in criminal clothing.

No one responded to that, his genuine question going unanswered. It didn't bother Hisao, he hadn't expected an answer. He sighed. Thankfully, Kenji broke up the silence before it became too long.

"Hey guys, just letting you know we should leave in about 15 minutes if we want to meet the dealer." Kenji spoke up to be heard from across the room, snapping Miki out of her current thoughts.

"What?!, you got a dealer?" Miki was shocked.

"Yeah, that's what I said, wasn't it?" Kenji seemed unfazed at the suddenness of his proceedings. Hisao didn't mind, the sooner they got this device, the sooner they could get her back.

He wondered how she was doing. How were the kidnappers treating her? Hisao was fooling himself, of course she wasn't being treated like a princess. He started having thoughts of what he'd do to the kidnappers if they found themselves in his path.

Hisao allowed himself a small, muted smile, not exactly one of mirth. Perhaps one of excitement.


	8. Memories For Both Parties

Suzu's eyes snapped open. She was in reality again, that she was certain of.

Or was she? She fumbled her hand into her pocket, looking for that familiar shape. The action was made much more difficult due to her prone position. Her hands wrapped around it, pulling it out. It was a small metal battleship, barely bigger than her pinky finger. It reminded her of those dreams long since past, the endless games with Death. When she had met Hisao, those dreams seemed to disappear.

Hisao. The word made her heart ache. When was she going to be able to go home? Was she going to go home? She sighed, sitting up, still clutching the small token of her past.

She felt it around in her hand, taking satisfaction in the distribution in the weight.

She was in reality. Suzu sighed, swinging her legs around the bed. She hadn't dreamt anything since she was out. This wasn't exactly a rare occurance, but something still felt odd about the whole situation. She shrugged it off, standing up.

She felt her wrists, where the binds had cut into not a day before. After a few days, Thom had extricated her from her nylon prison, and even took off her blindfold. She had given him a mumbled thanks, not wanting him to know how much she hated it.

The first time he had seen Thom, she was shocked. He didn't look like the type of man to be involved in this work. He looked like he had fallen into the rabbit hole, and couldn't surface again. The dark bags under his eyes reminded Suzu of her own, and his voice always carried a dark undertone, like something dark had happened in his past.

She rubbed her eyes, managing to stand up on her shaky feet. The room they had kept her in turned out to be a conglomerate of rooms. She had a room to her own for sleeping, another for the paltry meals she was given, and finally a room for her… training. As much as she hated the concept of being an information mule, she loved her time in the dreams with Thom. It seems as if his child-like wonder with the nature of the dream had rubbed off onto her.

Not that she needed a push, she already relished the feeling of being able to control something, which up until that point had controlled her. It was a primal feeling, one she knew she shouldn't be enjoying.

But, she did. Maybe she had a weakness for this sort of petty power. With these thoughts in mind, she walked out of her dingy bedroom, and into the hallway connecting the three rooms. It must've been 4 in the morning. Her sleep-cycles were always skewered, thanks to her condition, but in return it gave a most strange affinity of being able to predict the current time.

She slept in her room alone, Thom exited through that heavy, metal door guarded by a key-code every night. Suzu hated to admit it, but sometimes she missed the man. His sermons on dream-sharing were most delightful when they did so while prancing through through the fields of her mind. It was a little peculiar, Thom never became the dreamer in their lectures, even if he could control the nature of the dream to prove a point.

He had taught her about projections, when she became lucid her mind always filled the dream with them, projections of her own subconscious. They looked like normal people, but it didn't take more than one time of her getting ripped apart by them before becoming incredibly wary of them.

There were also… personal projections. Memories that anyone sharing the dream sometimes brought with them. There were multiple occasions where a string of power lines ran right through a road, through a building, e.t.c. Intersections too, more than one time she couldn't go around a corner, knowing what memory lay unseen by her eyes. However, these were barely a deterrent against the unlimited creativity she enjoyed.

Her ears suddenly carried a vibration? What was that? She continued towards the sound of the noise, it appeared to be coming from the 'dream room', or so she had called it. Suzu could make it out more clearly now. It was rhythmic hissing, in and out, like a pump. She realized that someone was using the PASIV device. She turned the corner, surprised at the sight in-front of her.

The device was indeed activated, standing on its usual center pedestal. It was activated, the counter reading 15 minutes left, which meant 3 hours in dream time. A single IV line was being used, trailing down to the floor, and up to a man's wrist. Thom was knocked out, deep in the throes of whatever dream he was in. Suzu realized that this could be her chance. She could tie him up and interrogate him for the code when he woke up.

She then noticed that the other IV line she used for sharing dreams was still on the counter, cannula pointed toward her as if it was taunting her. Thom's chest slowly raised up and down, trying it's damndest to convince her to join him in the ether. Suzu's rational thoughts were quickly replaced by intense curiosity, a feeling she knew all too well as of late.

Suzu exhaled out of her nose, dragging a recliner over to the other side of Thom, and sat back in it. Slowly, she reached for the IV, exposing her right wrist in the process. As she inserted it, she felt a short nick of pain before a slow, cool sensation flowed into her wrist, making her shiver slightly. The all too familiar feeling of her chest being compressed took hold, and her eyelid's drooped. Her breaths slowed until they could hardly be made out over the ambience of the room.

And Suzu fell into sleep again.

She found herself on a grassy knoll, her hair blew in the breeze, blurs of turquoise making themselves known in her peripheral vision. The looked around. Grassy fields, separated by rolling hills consumed her entire view. Suzu could hear the rumbling of the ocean in the distance, making her smile slightly.

But something was wrong, what was it? She looked around, trying to decipher the answer. It wasn't the greenery, no, that wasn't unusual. The sky? Perfectly normal. It was then that she turned around. A farmhouse took up the majority of her view, making her wonder why she hadn't noticed it before. The paint on the sides of the house had long since frayed, little chips falling into the green grass below. The windows were slightly dusty from neglect, but otherwise, it looked like it was lived in. A few gardening tools lay unused on the side of the house, Suzu predicted that she was at the back of the house.

Making a few cautious steps forwards, she scanned every inch around her, no sign of any projections. Why? She reached for the holster on her slacks, only to find it missing. After her training on a militarized subconscious, she was always armed in her dreams, but not this one. How strange.

Suzu rounded the corner of the house. A black sedan was parked here, the sleek black exterior matching the interior. It was a beautiful car, marred by the horrible parking job. One of the tires was off the driveway. She noticed that the front door was open, as if inviting her inside. She walked towards it, as if drawn by its outward appearance. She peered inside. It looked like a normal precipice to a house, a red rug lay on beige tile, welcoming her in. She stepped in carefully, making sure to not kick the opened door. To her right was a small table with a picture that depicted a couple. She was about to pick it up before she recoiled. The woman had no face, a smooth expanse of skin glazed over where her features should've been.

Suzu stepped back, but managed to stop her reaction before she hit the wall behind her. She hadn't looked at the picture for long, but she knew the man in that picture well.

What was Thom's dream doing here? This question would go unanswered for long, however, as she heard a noise emanating from around the corner. A living room? Whatever it was, the noise was constant. Someone was talking.

Swallowing her fears, she quietly began her solemn march forward, carefully avoiding the brown coat strewn on the floor. Suzu was nearing the corner now, she could just barely make out the words.

"…just let me go, Thom." All of the cascading curiousness inside Suzu's head was answered as she rounded that corner.

A couple sat on the couch, Thom was looking away from her, looking towards an unknown person. He had his hand outreached towards the person's face, but her façade was blocked by a strategically placed lamp. Suzu couldn't say anything, and simply shuddered. She shouldn't be here.

The person put a womanly hand on Thom's arm, slowly releasing his grip on… her face? A small bead of moisture trailed down the inside of his thumb, collecting in his palm.

"Honey, you know I can't do that." Thom replied. It wasn't his usual voice, gone was the dark undertone, replaced with something… else. Suzu couldn't quite name it. A sharp inhale came from the unknown person, was she crying?

The person took a breath, as if she was about to speak, but then stopped. Did she notice her? Suzu's heartbeat raised as the woman sat up, revealing her form to Suzu.

Saki Enomoto. She'd changed in the last 8 years, but she was still recognizable from when they were friends. She was wearing a dark red camisole, which contrasted heavily with her fair skin. A faint hissing sound escape from her back, Suzu wondered what it was before she got a glimpse of the strange source from a mirror in the back.

The camisole covered most of it, but from what Suzu could see, she could only guess at how far it extended down her back. A small, brownish-grey ridge, made of metal ran down the skin above Saki's spine. It was segmented in several locations, obviously meant for mobility. The machine whizzed and whirred as pumps inside fought to keep Saki alive.

Wait, why was Thom the only dreamer? Projections didn't… form from alive people.

As if Saki herself heard this thought, she finally spoke. "Suzu Suzuki…" She trailed off, walking around the couch to orient herself right in front of Suzu. She caught a glimpse of Thom's face as she walked around, one of bewilderment. He hadn't expected her to jump into his dreams like this.

"It's been a loooooong time…" Her voice was the same as when they were kids, but what felt like vocal daggers stabbed into her back. This woman is dangerous, screamed her brain.

"Y…you're dead." Suzu said, deadpan. It was really all she could muster from her constricted throat. Saki smiled, letting a small giggle escape from her lips.

She grabbed ahold of one of Suzu's shoulders.

"Of course I am sweetie." The way she said 'sweetie' made her shudder. It was venomous. This wasn't the real Saki. This was Thom's projection of Saki. Some emotion deep inside of him projected onto this mannequin of a woman.

Saki moved her hand to the side of Suzu's throat, resting a thumb on her chin, rubbing it back and forth slightly. She heard a small noise emanate from the couch, Thom had snapped out of his daze and gotten up. Saki removed her thumb from Suzu's chin, and wrapped it around the other side of her neck.

She barely suppressed a shudder, she was completely at the mercy of this woman now.

"Send my regard to Rika, would you?" Her voice barely a whisper, Saki ever so slightly increased the pressure of her grip, ready to begin to choke Suzu.

But she never got the chance.

Thom grabbed Saki from behind, surprising her, letting go of her vice like grip on Suzu's throat. She fell backwards onto the red rug, watching Thom and Saki.

Thom turned around and pushed Saki onto the floor, a cry of surprise emerged from Saki's lips as she was pushed to the ground. Thom momentarily hesitated before turning around and giving Suzu his hand, which she accepted. The two of them standing now, they watched Saki, who was immobilized by the contraption on her back.

"Why is she here Thom?!" Saki screamed, turning into a different person, Thom's apparent self-hatred. "You kidnapped her didn't you?!" She kicked around, trying to gain purchase on the unsteady ground.

Suzu sneaked a peak toward Thom. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were moist.

"You never changed from that day Thom." Saki's voice had quieted, and she turned around to look at Thom.

"You never changed." She echoed her prior words.

Without further ado, Thom grabbed Suzu's shoulder and led her out of the farmhouse, and into the waking world.

Suzu gasped, getting used to the sensation of waking up. Thom was already pulling the IV out of his wrist, setting it on the table.

He sighed, sitting on the side of the chair for a few moments, before gathering the courage to stand up.

"I'm going somewhere." He mumbled, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. "I'll be gone for a day or so. You'll be fed."

He was out of the door before Suzu took the cannula out of her arm. Suzu felt her mind spinning. This man, her kidnapper, was with Saki? She tried remembering her short dialogue with her. Was she implying that Thom wasn't always like this? Filled with questions, she retired back to her damp, musty bedroom.

She was still exhausted after all.

Suzu always was.


	9. Suppressed

A voice vibrated through the pay-phone, making the receiver grimace.

"Sir, are you sure you wan-"

He was interrupted by yet another verbal torrent.

"But-"

He stopped, this time of his own accord. He really had no excuse, did he? The voice on the sending end was barely audible over the foot-traffic.

"There will be a team that will breach at approximately…" The voice suddenly cut off. The man already knew the plan. And how he dreaded it. The man sighed and put down the phone, alone in his thoughts. And as he stood on the sidewalk, he wondered for his future, and how his actions in the next few hours would change it.

Hisao felt his inertia shift as the car accelerated. The smooth, dark interior of the luxury sedan remained static, but Hisao felt himself press into his seat. Eventually it equalized as they continued on a long straight-away.

They were in Akira's car, a left-over from her days at the law firm. The interior of the sedan was similar to the outside, carrying carefully crafted curves. He sat in the passenger seat, Akira of course was driving her own car. Behind them, Miki and Kenji both sat apart from each other. Miki was busy looking tiredly out of the window, and Kenji was face-deep in a phone.

The rain continued, pattering against both sides of the window. Both sides? Hisao looked in both directions to confirm his suspicions, which were affirmed. How strange. He then noticed that he felt no vibrations from the currently active engine of the sedan, it felt as if he were soaring on a cloud. If the other three noticed, they didn't show it.

He felt for the gun he currently had in a hip holster. It was similar to the Glock he had when… she was taken, albeit a newer model. Miki had insisted that they all pack heat, after all they were headed to a shady deal, Kenji had met the man online only 30 minutes earlier. The dealer had seemed awfully insistent about meeting as soon as possible, which had made Akira's expression change to one of suspiciousness. However, no matter how shady, they needed that device in order to save her.

'PASIV', the acronym rolled off his tongue, pronouncing it as 'passive'. The work they were going to be doing with it would be anything but passive however.

Suddenly, Hisao's nose felt blocked, so he reached up to close one of his nostrils to breathe out. He clamped his finger on his left nostril and blew as hard as he could… and air exhaled out of both nostrils.

The car had been silent up until that point, Miki snapped out of her thoughts, looking lazily towards the front of the car.

"Jesus Nakai." Akira grinned, not taking her eyes off the road. "Use a tissue." None of them felt his current confusion. First the rain, then the engine, now this?

What was going on?

Suddenly, the car in front of them suddenly stopped, earning a bout of hushed cursing from Akira. The car in front was similar to his, a black sedan, possibly a different make. Akira slammed on the breaks and managed to stop the car before they collided with the one in front of them. They were in the middle of an intersection now, and Hisao felt a strange sort of dread. One that Hisao hadn't felt since that night.

All was quiet. The car infront of them remained static, Akira tapping a finger on the wheel, obviously impatient. She huffed, and leant out of her window to get a better look.

After considering the thought for a few moments, Akira turned to the three others in the car. "I'm going to take a look." She said simply before stepping out of the vehicle, leaving the door open. She walked to the driver side window, and her face became one of shock. Stunned, she stood there for a few seconds before walking back to the car.

"There's nobody in there." Akira said, a peculiar look overtaking her face.

"What?!" Miki and Kenji said at the same time, Hisao remaining quiet. Miki and Kenji looked to each other, then back to Akira.

"B-but nobody got out!" Miki said, beginning to question the nature of the reality she was currently occupying. Akira sighed, and got into the driver's seat, closing the door.

"Whatever." She said, shifting the vehicle into drive. "We'll just go around it." Akira swerved past the unoccupied car, into the intersection. It was then Hisao noticed something incredibly strange, he chastised himself for not noticing it earlier.

There was no traffic. This wasn't exactly the busiest part of the city, but…

He didn't recognize the buildings. Their drab concrete shapes held no recognition in his mind. He began to see billboards for products that didn't exist, advertisments for events never to happen. Impossible geometry spiraled into the air. He swallowed, his throat suddenly becoming incredibly tight, his heart rate quickened.

This wasn't real.

As if the dream itself had sensed thoughts, the unoccupied car behind them exploded, sending shrapanel into the back of the sedan. Luckily, none seemed to penetrate, but the rear windshield was all but shards. Miki expressed a cry of surprise, as did Kenji. Akira however remained stoic, giving the burning wreckage a quick glance.

A car bomb?

That wasn't the end of it, however. Hisao's worst fears were confirmed when he heard the hissing and cracking of bullets being fired near him. Some of them impacted the car, making the four sitting ducks. A bullet collided with the front windshield, shattering the frame and landing itself between Miki and Kenji.

"Get out!" Akira screamed as she kicked open the driver-side door. They didn't need to be told twice, the rest of them opened their doors, crouching outside to use the thin metal as a shield.

More hisses. The bullets were becoming more accurate, landing themselves more and more into the thin metal shields they possessed. Akira and Hisao faced the worst of it, however the two taking cover behind them didn't miss out on the action.

With shaky hands, Hisao reached for his pistol, then risked a glance upward to find out where he should return fire. He barely got a look before another round of bullets sent him into cover. Behind him, Miki drew her gun, only using her right hand, and proceeded to blind-fire over the windshield, making Hisao cringe from the closeness of the shots.

With this, the rest of them returned suppressing fire, the sounds of the firefight surrounding them until it was all Hisao could think. His mind turned into a binary state; was he safe or not? Right now that was a solid one.

He fired a couple more shots over the door, hand recoiling due to the force involved. It seemed ineffective, as the firerate of the enemies only increased. Hisao felt something pooling underneath his feet.

It was a cloudy crimson that swirled through the cracks in the sidewalk, flowing around his shoes. It was blood, not his. But who's?

His question was answered by a groaning coming from behind him and to the left, Kenji had been hit. He barely had time to consider this fact before another barrage of bullets threatened his cover. He heard the bullets impact flesh, and the sound a body made when it hit concrete. Another person was down.

Hisao tried to peek over again, but he was shut down by a live round, the shrapnel imbedding itself in his leg. The pain jolted him awake, and he fell back onto the concrete. It had hit an artery, and he was slowly but surely bleeding out. The warm river cascaded down his leg onto the ground below. He didn't feel any pain.

He heard footsteps approaching him, and he barely held the strength to look at the man looming over him, gun pointed at his head. Hisao didn't have the time to spit out a witty one liner before the man pressed down on the trigger…

…and Hisao woke up, gasping for breath. The room was brought to focus around him. A warehouse, neglected for years possibly, surrounded the space around. He realized he was sitting back, in a recliner. He looked to his left. The three others were spread around the table. Miki was busily pulling an IV out of her arm, Akira sat with her head in her hands, and Kenji simply sat, dazed. He noticed he was still connected to the machine via a canulla, so gently he pulled it out, drawing a minute amount of blood with it,

Why were they here? Hisao struggled to remember the events of the last few hours. As if answering his question, the sound of a door-creak could be heard, drawing the four's attention. He looked to the right to see a tall, burly man. His face was fitted with a mask, hiding every detail from them. The man had a strange device around his throat. It was then that Hisao remembered, this man was the dealer.

The dealer reached to his throat, pressing a button on the device fastened around it.

"My employer's consider that to be satisfactory work. It's rare a team survives for more than 20 seconds." The man spoke, his voice warped and tinny due to the voice changer's influence.

"So, we get the job details now?" Akira said, obviously impatient to get this deal over with. Her voice carried the tone of someone who'd done this before.

"…Not yet." The dealer said, putting a hand in his pocket. "My employers don't think your team has the training required to take on this job." The dealer put an emphasis on 'my employers' as if he didn't want to reveal to them who he really worked for. Fair enough.

This time Kenji spoke up. "What more training would we need? I can already find out a person's background in about 3.-"

He was interrupted by the dealer. "Field training."

This made Kenji quiet down. No matter how experienced he was at finding information in reality, it was finding it in the dream world that made their job so important. It was the only way to find her after all.

"Thom." The dealer used economic words, not wanting to say much unless they determined his identity even through the mask and voice changer. Sure enough, the man was answered, and the same door the dealer had entered through squeaked once more.

This man was different. For starters, he didn't bother hiding his identity. His dirty blond hair was neatly kempt, contrasting with Hisao's own. His green eyes carried a sharp undertone to them, motivated by something. His suit was slightly dirty, as if he had spent the last week in a damp pit.

The man opened his mouth. "Good afternoon, I'm Thom." He continued his stride until he stopped infront of the four, still reclined. Something about this man's voice cut into Hisao, the vague undertones cutting into his flesh like knives.

He was about to continue speaking before he was interrupted by the dealer himself. "I'm sorry, but I can't spare any more time. The device's yours, you'll get the job offer soon enough. I trust Thom will be able to teach you." The dealer left as quickly as he arrived, through one of the back doors. Hisao was about to wonder why he had left so suddenly, sharing the same thought with the three others, before he heard the sound of a car engine outside. Multiple engines.

Thom looked towards the commotion, his face suddenly darkening significantly. He looked as if he was having an internal conflict. His face scrunched as he tried to make sense of the situation. Thom's hand reached for his hip, as he came to his decision.

Unholstering his gun, he brought it near his eyes, checking to see if it was loaded. Satisfied with the result, mystifying the four of them, he spoke once more.

"I hope you can fight better in reality."


	10. Past and Present

Suzu sat on the bed, head hanging off it at an uncomfortable angle. She made a game of trying to get her feet on the wall to straighten her back out, but to no avail. She sighed, turning around so she could rest her back. Her feet lay uncomfortably on the floor, not sure exactly where they should sit. A small bug swerved around her feet, but she didn't bother recoiling from it.

She squeezed her temple slightly. This room was going to make her go insane. The small light fixture that hung precariously from the cracked ceiling faintly flickered, her eyes screamed in protest to the constant changes in lighting. All she wanted to do was to close her eyes.

The bags under her eyes were heavier. Of course, this of all times she would get her insomnia symptoms. Suzu rubbed her eyes, trying to persuade them to fall under a blanket of unconsciousness, to no avail. She never really had thought of it before, but she missed the pills on her nightstand. The ones that made it so that she didn't sleep every 4 hours. Sure, she still had attacks while on them, but she could at least delude herself for 12 hours of her waking life that she was normal.

She put her head in her hands, not in sorrow, however. Suzu didn't cry anymore. That was… old Suzu. Was this new Suzu? The questions kept swimming in her head. How much had she changed since this happened? The small, rational portion of her brain tried to explain it as "The same would happen to anyone else in this situation."

Suzu wasn't now, or ever a rational person. Her affinity for the works of Shakespeare proved that. She looked around inside her memories for a quote from him that would apply to this situation, but to no avail.

She guessed he'd never bothered to write about a narcoleptic chick who has been kidnapped by criminals to use as an information mule. It's a pretty niche subject.

Her brain was wandering, a result of her current state of absolutely skull-fucking boredom. She'd made a game of counting the countless cracks on the ceiling… 3 hours ago. Now she was simply sitting on the bed, staring off into space as she looked for something to interest her.

The door?

No, they would've never have left it unlocked. She had clearly heard the click of the lock shut as Thom led her into here.

Thom. Suzu would never mention it, even if her life was at risk, but to be perfectly honest, a part of her missed the man. His constant lessons on dream-sharing interested her to no end, helped by Thom's child-like wonder of the subject. He had spent most of his time here, it felt like he was a captive along with her, rather than the kidnapper. As she thought this, a bolt of lightning shot through her head, a part of her brain that was immune to her current state.

_Getting Stockholm Syndrome, are we?_

No, no, no. She had heard that voice before, the same voice that had presided over her dreams since Yamaku. She hadn't heard that voice in 8 years, but it felt as clear as ever. Her hand subconsciously wandered to her battleship, but it held the same irregular weight.

She wasn't sympathizing with Thom at all. She still held the will to escape.

_Then what did you feel when you saw Thom and Saki, Suzu?_

No, no NO! That was just… empathy? They had both lost the ones they had loved right?

_And Thom caused that Suzu. He's caused all of this, your pain and suffering._

All Suzu wanted right now was to get this voice out of her head, to end the conflict with an entity she had once known so well. She stood up on unsteady legs, as if shuddering while holding her mental burden. She walked, almost ran to the door and tried the doorknob.

To her great surprise, the door opened with a loud _squeak. _What? But Thom had locked her in here. She tried to remember that moment, he had carefully led her to the center of the room, before closing the door behind her. She had clearly heard that 'click'.

But as she remembered the sound, she realized it wasn't a lock being shut. It was one of a gun being cocked. A sound she had remembered so many times with their efforts fighting against their projections. Why did Thom leave the door open for her?

The main steel door held no such luck, it was based on a time lock, so he couldn't have opened it for her. So, she wandered down the hallway, curious as to what Thom had left her besides an opened door. Suzu turned the corner to a room they had entered so many times.

Again, shock flashed through her mind. The PASIV device was still there, closed on the table. But something was different, a note lay on top. As she approached it, she recognized the sophisticated handwriting instantly. Of course it was his.

_-Suzu_

_When I said I was going to be gone for awhile, I wasn't kidding. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you beforehand, but the job's going ahead next morning. Without me. _

_I just wanted you to know that I'm helping instead of hurting. For too long I've tried to justify my actions by saying that they were out of my hands, when they were really in my control the entire time. It's over. I can never give my apologies to the people I've hurt, especially not her, and I also suppose that this redemption is still a little hollow._

_I'll do my best to make sure that's not the case. When that prison comes down, if I'm not with them, just remember that I did my best to get them there._

_Maybe then I'll have finally have helped someone._

Suzu's hands trembled as she put down the note.

Just what the hell was Thom doing?


	11. The Clock Tolls

More footsteps outside. They were grouping together. Hisao had no idea what they were equipping, but anything larger than a peashooter spelt trouble for them. It wasn't easy to make sense of it all, the adrenaline started it's journey through his body the moment he had heard the screeching brakes. The fact they had brought multiple cars meant they were outnumbered. He subsconsiously went for his gun, his fingers wrapping around the cool metal. If he was going to die, he'd die trying to save her.

"Hisao, help me with this crate." Thom was over by a heavy-looking crate, looking anxious to get some sembelance of defense ready before they came in. The wood might not protect them from bullets, but whatever's inside should, at least he hoped.

Hisao jogged over and took his position on the other-side of the crate, noting but not caring about the sign that said 'Handle with care.' With great effort, they pushed and pulled the crate over to a more advantageous position. It was near the middle of the room, but if offered a defensive position covering the main doors.

They only had a few moments before the men outside oriented themselves and breached the building. If they were taking this long, they were obviously entering through two separate routes, maybe more. Hisao's heart continued to race, unabated by his worries of his condition. If it was anything that could prevent him from having an attack, it was his steely determination.

As they settled the crate into it's new spot, Hisao grunted and looked up. Thom was wiping off his hands, putting a leather glove on his right. He took this opportunity to ask him something that had been bugging him. Something about this man put him off.

"How do you know my name?" He asked Thom with a careful, methodical voice. Thom hesitated for a second before answering. He seemed to be pondering his answer in his head, slowly rolling it around until it fit the conversation.

"Why would I charge in to help you defend against a group of armed men without learning your names first?" Thom answered. He answered the question with another question, typical. Nevertheless, Hisao wasn't in any condition to start questioning Thom's motives.

Once that was finished, Hisao called for everyone to form in the center of the warehouse. They needed some sort of plan. The warehouse was a simple 'L' shape, it was nearly devoid of cargo, only the occasional abandoned crate to provide any sembelence of security. The two ends of the warehouse had heavy sheet metal doors, but could easily be rolled up by two men. Other than those entry points, he supposed that they could boost someone to the roof. The angular windows above made him more than cautious of an aerial assault, but he didn't think that their attack force was large enough to justify such a tactic.

Luckily, they had enough crates to provide cover from both angles. They dragged the crates to the corner of the warehouse, thusly the entire team could engage foes from both sides. Unfortunately, it didn't really help the impression that they were trapped like rats.

"Alright." Hisao said as the group gathered together. His words were slightly choked. He hadn't been in _real _combat before, none of them had. "Akira and Miki, you'll take that side." He pointed over to the side facing the long end of the warehouse, the only thing between them and the door were a couple of crates and some flimsy wooden pallets. "Kenji and Thom, you'll take the other side."

"Wait, where are you then?" Thom questioned. It wasn't a genuine question, that was for sure. Was he… testing him? Why would he do that? The statement gave him pause. Where did this leave him? His gaze wandered to a raised catwalk on the upper level, bridged to the floor by a flimsy ladder. The catwalk had next to nil in the way of cover, only a few barrels and pallets strewn about to give it the impression of an abandoned warehouse.

"There." He said, pointing to where a group of detritus, by chance had clustered together. Thom slowly nodded, evidentally satisfied with his answer. The rest gave short murmurs of approval, dampened by the approaching situation.

Hisao jogged over to the ladder. It had certainly seen better days, the rusted paint looked ready to chip with the slightest touch. As he gripped it, he cringed as the paint slightly dug into his palms. Now wasn't the time for comfort, he thought as he quickly ascended the ladder.

As he pulled himself up, the catwalk groaned underneath him, threatening to give out before the fight had even started. He carefully tested the path ahead before continuing, seemed steady.

A myriad of pipes that led down to the floor was on his right, with various valves and unused gauges that he found himself trying to avoid on the narrow catwalk. He stepped over another unused barrel, finding himself at the corner of the warehouse. Here, he had a perfect view of the entire layout. He was Akira and Miki taking positions on the same side of the crate, he could see their lips moving, as if one was comforting another. At this distance, he couldn't really tell who was talking to whom. On the other side, Kenji eyed Thom with concern. He had always been the suspicious type, and he didn't seem to be ruling out the possibility of Thom turning around and popping one in his head.

Despite the enormous amount of questions floating through the space surrounding their heads, they would rest unanswered for now, for the bell tolled for each of them as they heard the group outside split up.

Hisao looked down, his gaze completely focused as his body saturated in adrenaline. His gun was loaded, at the ready.

But was he? Were any of them?

It may have been the adrenaline, or the situation at hand, but something inside Hisao's mind clicked. It wasn't often that anything really made sense to him, an aftertaste of the girl he had once knew. But now, it was different. It felt like that for the first time, everything in his life was completely clear, black and white. In a strange sort of way, it was almost freeing. It felt good to not be limited by any set of morality.

Each of the metal doors vibrated as the men tried to gain entry, the rollers creaking as they inched upwards. The people below him snapped to attention, as if someone has touched their trip-wires.

_He was good._

A shot rang out. He didn't know if it came from the five of them or who-knows outside. He didn't really care. It landed in one of the crates near Akira. She flinched as splinters flew at her, landing in her pristine clothing.

_They were bad._

One of the garage doors rolled up, it was on the girl's side. Three men filed into the warehouse, diving into cover as the combined fire of Miki and Akira pelted the wall behind them, lighting up the dismal atmosphere of the warehouse. The men returned fire, making one of the pallets lying on a support near their position little more then firewood.

_Bad people took her._

The other garage door flung open, releasing another group of three men into the men's side. They were more cautious with their approach, firing off a few rounds into the defensive position of both Kenji and Thom as they made their way into cover. A short _psshh _sound resonated around the room, a burst of steam flew outward dangerously close to Thom's head.

_Therefore, they must die._

With that basic, almost animalistic thought, Hisao's hand raised his pistol, aiming it at the men suppressing the girl's position. His finger moved of it's own accord, his entire arm compensating for the recoil. His crystal clear vision had spotted a target, the bullets impacting his flesh, sending rivulets of crimson red spiraling down to the floor.

Miki rose up, using the opportunity to pump lead into the chest of an unsuspecting man. She held the gun with her good hand, flinching less than him while she shot. He fell down as well, clutching his upper chest. She ducked back in cover, giving Hisao a view of her wide, vacant eyes. They were the eyes of a killer, little orbs deadened to seeing the loss of another. It was strange, something about them reminded Hisao of himself.

He turned to see Kenji and Thom pinned down by heavy fire, the bullets ricocheting off the top of their cover, sending a piece of shrapenal dangerously close to Hisao's position. His arm shot out of his cover, the shots echoing across the cold metal walls of the warehouse. His cold eyes focused on a particularly unlucky individual, his mind dehumanizing him. As he dropped to the ground, his gun clattering on the floor, he felt no remorse.

Only a sick sort of joy.

Kenji and Thom took the chance to return fire, sending multiple shots over their own paltry cover. More impacts with hot flesh could be heard, the bullets tearing right through the tendons, imbedding themselves in the steel walls.

One more shot resonated around the room, as if it were a gong, bringing a cease to the battle. They were all silent for a few moments, before gradually, they all began to stand up. Akira exhaled heavily, laying her hands on the cover that had saved her life. Miki carefully replaced her pistol in her holster, taking care not to drop it from her shaking hands. She still held the same eyes she wore during combat. Kenji didn't move, instead opting to survey the situation around him, whitened knuckles still gripping the cool black steel. Thom simply had his arms crossed, looking at each of them before looking up to Hisao.

"Nice…" Thom said, trailing off his last word. Hisao wasn't really in the condition to start dissecting Thom's words. "I'm serious, that was pretty good."

Akira took the opportunity to speak up, her newsboy cap almost drooping off her head. "So what, we're alive. I'm guessing that benefits you somehow… dickhead." Akira seemed to see right through Thom's apparently paper-thin motives, earning a chuckle from the latter. Though whether it was from her apparent conviction, or her language was yet to be seen.

"I'll answer everything sweetheart, but the cops in this city are very quick, and if you don't want to be pinned for all of these murders, we need to leave now." Thom said, walking out one of the open garage doors, and into the sunlight. Dazedly, the others below began to follow. Hisao took his time in descending the ladder, crossing over to the door was done quickly. He paused to look at one of the bodies he had created, a lifeless corpse he had crafted out of brass and powder. The crimson tide leaked onto the floor, following set patterns and channels set in the tilework.

Hisao didn't feel anything. In fact, he'd venture to say that everyone here who was still alive felt numb.

He crossed the threshold, into the sunlight. He squinted, his adrenaline infused eyes groaning with the effort to dilate his pupils. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the rest piling into one of the cars the men had left, engine still running. They obviously expected to return from this alive.

A different man might've reflected on this, but Hisao only dazedly stepped into the front passenger seat, and Thom drove them through the city streets. They didn't ask for a destination, they didn't care. A couple of police cars roared past them, concerned more with the scene of the crime then the criminals escaping from it.

With that, Hisao turned his head, resting it on the velvety headrest.

And for the first time in what felt like years, Hisao fell asleep.


	12. Downtime

The first thing he had noticed was the smell. It was an acrid sort of sense, one that immediately made itself known to his nostrils. It was the scent of discarded cigarette butts and cheap beer. She had sat down, the stool creaking underneath her, and began to talk to the bartender. Her elegant attire conflicted with the dismal scenery so sharply, he could've thought she wasn't real for a moment.

Or that he was dreaming. Ever since that little impromptu 'test' at the warehouse, he realized that it could be pretty hard to judge what was real and what wasn't. Unless of course, he had a totem, which he didn't. Miki wasn't entirely sure how they worked, but she did know that they had to have a unique 'feel' to them. This meant the item had to be modified in such a way that the dreamer wouldn't know. He didn't have the tools for that now.

Another blast of noxious air brought him back to his senses. Akira might not look the part, but her standards were low enough to cut grass. He couldn't really judge. Cheap, acidic swill was just the thing to get your mind off a multi-homicide. The bartender she was currently trying to hold conversation with was bewildered at the contrast she made. Business was business however, and he quickly shuffled over to the beer tap to fulfill whatever order she had made.

Kenji walked over and sat next to Akira, mumbling something to the bartender. Kenji drank? Now that he thought about it, he had seen a couple of bottles in his room back at Yamaku. When… she was tied on his floor. Thinking back on that entire situation, it was pretty silly, but now it only felt like another grain of salt in the wound. Not as much a wound as it was a gaping hole where he had been nearly split in half.

Other than the four of them, the bar was pretty much deserted. Two people shared a table near the back, but they didn't look like the type to start shooting at them. Thom had assured them that no heat would come their way. He personally took care of the bodies. Hisao didn't want to think of what that entailed. They gave him the safe house code so that he could rest there while the cops gave up on finding a British douchebag in a suit.

Miki uncomfortably stood there, looking for a seat that wouldn't entail buying a drink. He had to hand it to her… ignoring the faux pas, Miki was the last person he'd think would remain sober. And at that moment, Hisao didn't feel much like blacking out the events of the past few hours with stinging brown liquid.

He sighed, turning around in the process. The bar was small, and it was only a few steps to the exit. The bell sounded as he left, snapping Miki out of her daze. He saw her turning her head as he stepped out of the door, into the cool night air beyond. Akira and Kenji didn't notice, Kenji was ranting to Akira about how he was right, Akira looking like she needed another drink. The wooden door slammed behind him, ushering in the atmosphere around him

The night air contrasted with the stuffy atmosphere of the bar. He could still detect the distant scent of pollution on the wind, but compared from where he came from it was certainly a welcome change. Cars passed lazily down the small street in front of him. As much as he hated the feeling, he couldn't remove the thought of one of those stopping in front of him and dropping him where he stood. Hisao never thought he'd become like Kenji. Then again, Kenji was one to get incredibly agitated over nothing at all, where he was anxious about a very real possibility.

There was still the matter that the trail had gone cold. Sure, they had the machine now. What now? They had done all of this to get in touch with a corporation to slowly find out which one was hiding Suzu. That had been the plan, but after that firefight it seemed that someone knew about what they were really fighting for. Was there even a Plan B? Plan A was a hail mary as it was, he couldn't conceive of a realistic Plan B.

Other than shooting everyone, of course.

Another car passed, bringing with it another wave of noxious gas. He let it pass over him without a second thought.

A part of him wanted to scream at him, asking him what he had become. The rest of him quickly shushed that nagging thought. He was doing this for her, nothing more. Once he found her, everything would be fine.

Everything would be normal again.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, the door creaked open behind him. A person he had once known all too well stepped outside, hand in her pocket. She looked… vaguely concerned about something. She shuffled her feet as if a great weight was straining her joints. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then quickly closed it.

She was being careful with something. It made Hisao wary.

Before she could say anything, Hisao spoke up, racking his brain for what a normal conversation sounded like.

"Why aren't you in there?" A simple question.

She hesitated a little before answering. She had expected to begin the conversation.

"I… don't drink." She was looking off to the right, her eyes unfocused. Her eyes held the same gaze she had worn while she was in the warehouse.

Hisao had something he wanted to ask her, something that had been bugging him ever since the warehouse battle.

"Why are you incredibly proficient with guns, Ms. Miura?" His words came out cold, almost clinical. It wasn't a fluke, he meant to sound like that.

Miki's face shot up, as if she hadn't expected him to notice that. It was hard not to, she handled the pistol like a professional, minus one hand no less. And the gaze in her eyes… what was that? Was it disconnection? Or was it… remembrance?

Another car passed by, signifying a change in the conversation. The breeze picked up, sending a few pieces of trash across the road. One of them hit Hisao's ankle, but he remained stoic.

Miki's face took on a variety of expressions. First surprise, which gradually sullied into a small frown. Had she expected this conversation? Her eyes became unfocused, almost clouded. She was remembering something. Something that she had deep within her. It was obvious.

"What are you hiding?" His voice lowered, becoming almost threatening. Was she hiding something about this whole situation? Did she have a part in this? Was she threatening Suzu's safety? He couldn't allow that.

So, he stepped forward, but Miki remained still, looking off in the same direction as before. Her fists started to flex, not in a threatening way. Was she trying to be strong?

Hisao was certain of it. She was hiding something, and it was hurting them all.

So he stepped forward, putting a threatening hand on Miki's shoulder. Before she disappeared, he might've asked himself why he was doing this. But everything was clear now, he was right. This was for Suzu's sake.

"Tell me. Now." His words were more forceful, trying it's damndest to appear menacing to her.

Miki statuesque form remained still at the contact, offering no reaction to this turn of events. Hisao began to trail his hand towards her neck.

But he never finished that gesture.

Miki suddenly moved, sweeping Hisao's legs out from under him. He gave a small cry of surprise as his support was removed from under him. As he was falling, Miki twisted his arm behind his back. As he landed on the hard concrete, Miki straddled him, pinning down his other arm in the process. He was completely at her mercy. How was she able to do that without a hand?

She held him there for what felt like minutes. The cars passing by paid no mind to the strange scene in front of a dismal bar. Finally, she spoke. It was a strange voice, one that he hadn't really heard her use before.

"You ever wonder why I've been pursuing Suzu for all this time Nakai? Why I've spent countless funds and hours towards finding her!? While you relied on a detached police force funded by the very people who stole her!?"

Her words stung, referring to his countless efforts as a waste of time. In some way they were. If what she said was true, then with his prior efforts he really had no chance in finding her. He didn't get the chance to retort before she spoke again.

"I know how much you want her back Nakai, but you ever stop to wonder why we might want her back? Or are you just using us all as a means to an end?"

"I'm not-"

"Bullshit, Hisao. The rest of us know you're not the same man who left that school." He... wasn't?

Her grip softened slightly, Hisao could wriggle his arms slightly. He didn't fight free however, if she took him down this easily, she could probably knock him out just as simply.

"…neither am I…" He said softly, her menacing tone all but gone. Hisao barely had time to question it.

Miki sighed, then completely relinquished her grip on Hisao, standing up. Stunned for a moment, Hisao eventually brought himself up, rubbing a new bruise on his arm. He brushed his cheek to clear some of the concrete residue that had accumulated there. He wasn't angry. More along the lines of surprised at this turn of events.

She sighed, returning to the pose she had maintained until she had brutally brought him to the ground. This time, however, she was looking directly into his eyes. As much as he hated it, he couldn't help but being drawn to that look.

He swallowed, before asking his question.

"Why… do you want her back?" He knew now, it wasn't simply a matter of Suzu being her friend. It was deeper than that. It was… something else. It was her eyes, they were a dead giveaway.

"Because I've been living a lie, Nakai."

Shock flashed throughout his brain. What lie?!

"What…?" His choked voice was much more composed then his thoughts were. Miki however, remained calm.

"Look at me. Do I look Japanese to you?" She had a point. Her dark skin most certainly was foreign. He'd never really questioned it before. But what did that have to do with living a lie? Miki unconsciously started rubbing her stump, as remembering a repressed memory.

"N-no, I suppose not…"

Miki exhaled through her nose again.

"My real name's not Miki Miura."

Hisao's brain became alive with all manner of conflicting signals. He couldn't maintain one facial expression, so he settled for a simple eyebrow raise, one that didn't do much to reveal his current state of mind.

"My name's Phhuong Chhet." Miki looked like she had just released the world off her shoulders, but she still looked tense… why?

"It's…" She began, before Hisao interrupted her.

"…Cambodian." Hisao said this word on dry lips, tearing his gaze away from her. He adopted her look from before as he realized that for all this time, he was probably the first she she told this to.

"I used to live there… before this happened…" Her voice became slightly droning, as if she were trying to hold back tears. She gestured to her stump as she said this, and for the first time Hisao noticed that it never completely healed. A nasty scar still remained on the underside of the missing limb.

"I was a… child soldier there. I did… some things I'm not very proud of…" Her voice trailed off, as she remembered her dark past. Hisao didn't bother asking her what kind of things she did, as if he had already guessed.

"I never told her Hisao." A short tear fell down her cheek, quickly wiped away with a quick hand gesture. Hisao simply stood there. Comforting her was out of the equation for him, he doubted any word that came out of his mouth could sound sincere.

"I don't care what happens. I'm telling her." Her voice became her own again, untainted by her past. She shuffled a bit before adding: "Don't call me Phhoung. That part of my life is over now." She turned around and walked away from him, down the sidewalk. Hisao didn't bother walking after her.

For a man who now worked in lies and deceit, it was hard to get used to.


	13. An Unexpected Mentor

Cool waves of blue struck the sandy shores infront of him, sending mist particles flying into his hair. The almost indescribable smell of the sea reached his nostrils as his surroundings overcame him. He felt the warm sands underneath his hands, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the grainy surface. He felt… at ease here. An unknown feeling washed over him. Was it… serenity?

"Hisao." A voice next to him sounded, the sweet acoustics made their way to his ears, and enveloped him in a strange sense, one he couldn't put words to. It was something he hadn't felt in the longest time. He simply stood there, stunned at the utterance.

A short giggle once again burst him out of his trance, and he made the effort to look sideways at her, as much as his mind screamed at him not to. Her turquoise hair fluttered in the breeze the ocean provided, her hair almost blending in with the clear sky. The deep green pools swirled in his vision. It was the same color as her school issued skirt, which was probably the most formal attire she ever had in her wardrobe.

"He does that sometimes, just looking off into the distance…" Her use of the third-person was strange, foreign, but it didn't stop him from feeling the knife being plunged into his heart. She looked off towards the horizon, as if to demonstrate his unconscious action. "What does he see out there?" Obliging her, he took another look at the horizon.

The sun hung low in the sky, almost touching the watery edge, but something was amiss. The horizon, usually cloaked in shades of red and orange at this time of the evening, was now coated in a blurry grey. She frowned slightly at the sight, as if expecting something better.

"Does he see his future? His past?" She continued, not bothering to give him a chance to answer through his parched lips. "Or does he think it might be more than that?" She leant back, taking the chance to catch the salty sea wind in her hair.

Hisao didn't really know what to make of this situation. Why was he on the beach with her? Looking around, he recognized the rocky beach as one of the ones they… used to visit. Her love for the slow, monotonous pounding of the waves eventually transferred to him. Still, looking at the large expanse of water in front of him only brought memories he wished to forget.

With one, swift motion, the turquoise haired girl stood up next to him. Hisao's gaze was drawn in her direction. She had turned away from him, and walked alone down the sandy shore.

"H-hey, wait!" Hisao found himself stuttering, unused to the sight of his lover within his reach. He stood on shaky feet, desperate to reclaim what had been torn from his grasp.

Suzu stopped, turning her head slightly as if to silouhette it against the dark rock. Her mouth parted slightly, the pink lips open as if she were about to speak.

"Chase me."

With that, she stepped around the corner. He quickly gave chase, jogging to the corner, before rounding it in a quick manner. It had opened into a large straightaway, both sides of the rock going forward seemingly forever.

But she was gone.

He fell to his knees, too overcome with emotion to continue. As Hisao grew accustomed to the sight before him, his heart panged once more. He had lost her again. He had failed again. He could never give her that kind of security.

Suddenly, Hisao felt the strangest feeling. It was as if he was suddenly kneeling on a hill, even though he was on flat terrain. It only increased, leading him to dig his knees into the sand. Sand grains started sliding around him, all headed in the direction he was looking at.

He was at a loss of words, what exactly was happening?

He dug his hands into the sand, the slippery gains only flowing through his fingers. Locks of his hair started to lazily float forward in the direction he was looking at. He started to panic, clawing at more and more sand, but he couldn't find a hold.

Eventually, the feeling became too strong, and he was flung downward into the chasm that awaited him.

"…and that, is a kick." A voice erupted beside him. He was staring at an almost bare concrete ceiling, save for a florescent light that was annoyingly shining in his eyes. Bringing his hand to shield his eyes, he slowly looked around.

He was on the ground, that he was sure of. But why?

"Cmon now, we haven't got all day." A foot prodded his shoulder, and only then did he notice the man looming over him. He was the man from the warehouse, Thom, was it? He had his hands in his pockets, obviously comfortable in the situation.

"What…?" Hisao said, before looking downward to finally observe his situation. He was sitting in a chair, his hands hung uncomfortably off the sides. It only took a few moments to figure out what had happened. He'd been pushed over, for what reason he wasn't certain.

His eyes caught onto a thin strand of wire on his left, and he traced it to the source.

The familiar IV line was still inserted into his wrist. He'd been dreaming, she wasn't real. Of course she wasn't.

He threw caution to the wind, almost ripping the IV needle out in his sudden rage. He threw it on the ground, the line swinging like a pendulum as he pushed the chair off of him. He then stood up, in front of a very confused Thom. Hisao noticed that the others were standing behind him, as bewildered as Thom was.

For a few moments he paused, breathing heavily, before angrily pushing past Thom. He strode towards the bathroom, closing the door shut behind him.

The others watched him go, while Thom busied himself by rubbing the inside of his coat pocket. They stood there in silence for the longest time, only broken up by the sound of water flowing through a faucet.

"The hell was that about?" Akira asked to no one in particular. Thom's face scrunched up slightly before conjuring an answer.

"He wasn't aware he was dreaming, and something that he had brought into the dream felt real to him." Thom cringed slightly, as if he was all too used to the feeling. After a short pause he sighed, gathering the IV line Hisao had left haphazardly dangling off the table.

"We'll cover how to avoid that from happening next time."


	14. Everybody Needs A Savior

"Your totem must be unique, exclusive to your own person." His voice called out to the group gathered next to him. Addressing his point, he reached into his own pocket, pulling out a small, metallic necklace. The talisman on the end was heart-shaped, and had a small lock on the side.

"There is something inside the locket, but only I know what it is." He said, angling the locket away from them and opening it, as if to make sure it was still there. His expression darkened for a moment, before closing it and redirecting his attention back to the crowd. "That's the definition of a totem, a seemingly innocuous object with a hidden quality only you know. If anyone else knows about it, it defeats the purpose."

"So. Why do we need this?" Miki asked, rubbing her stump slightly.

"So you know when you're in a dream. Everything you have on your person carries over to the dream. It's as simple as reaching into your pocket." He sighed, leaning back in his position a bit.

Akira stuck a hand in her pocket, ruffling it around a bit as if she was searching for something. Slowly, she drew it out. It was small six-sided die. It was red, but the plastic it was composed of was strange. It most likely was loaded, but only Akira knew the weight of it. Thom nodded slightly, now knowing that she wasn't exactly new to this business.

He continued lecturing the team far into the night.

She wasn't sure what to expect from today. Thom had detailed her on the nature of the dream, but left the job she was unwillingly commissioned into undetermined. Suzu supposed since she was supposed to be the information mule she wasn't privy to most of the information about the job anyway. Besides, she was probably a dead woman after it was finished. These men were professionals, smart enough to not leave a witness behind.

Was being rational her coping mechanism? Detaching herself from the situation so far seemed to work, it's not like she was in control of it anyway.

Sometimes she had wondered what Hisao would think after they discovered her… hopefully intact corpse floating in the nearby harbor, or in a roadside ditch somewhere. Would he grieve her? Would he be broken? Suzu always pushed away the questioning before it began to bother her. Lamenting over her situation wouldn't help her anyway. It never worked, past or present.

Then of course, there was the question of Thom. The steel door securing her inside this prison was incredibly insulated, but even then she could make out snippets of conversation concerning his dissapearence. They had called him a 'traitor', or 'weak'. Suzu wasn't sure what to think, but she was pretty sure they could do the job without him. Why did Thom leave? What was he doing?

No matter the answer to those questions, there was still the present.. The fact that she was in a van of some sort with a bag over her head proved that. Suzu's inertia shifted as the van took yet another turn. Her feet kept knocking into some object as the van turned, it felt metallic. Other than that, she couldn't really determine the shape. It wasn't the PASIV, they wouldn't lock the hostage in with it, even if she was guarded.

She twisted her wrists, trying to feel how her bonds were secured. They felt thin, slightly malleable. Was it some sort of twine? It was only when a thin piece of plastic poked her back that her suspicions were confirmed. Cable ties. She wasn't going to get out of them in a hurry.

"Stop that." A gruff voice rang out next to her, accentuated by a gun barrel being poked into her side. Suzu had tried to keep a brave face ever since she'd been kidnapped, but she couldn't hide the icy vice gripping her heart. Her expression faltered for a bit, afraid that the man next to her could see it even through the dark bag hiding her features.

A short metallic scraping sound emanated from the other-side of the van. Another man was riding with them. It continued, only stopping shortly before starting up again. She could see the silohette of the man adjacent to her. He looked hunched over, wielding a tool of some sort. It was only the voice of the man next to her that gave her any context on the situation.

"Nice drawing, but technically it's not your gun." The man next to her spoke again, this time in a lighter tone. He leant forward, one hand resting on his knee.

The metallic scraping stopped, the other man sitting up from his prior position. It appeared as if he was holding a knife, making a crude etching on the stock of the weapon.

"Aren't we razing these after we're done?" The other man's voice was a little lighter than the other. "Thom made our job harder by taking half the-" He was cut short by a small head-motion by the man next to her. Suzu supposed he was addressing the fact that they shouldn't talk about pressing issues in the same car as the hostage.

The man across from her gave a short sigh, before hunching over and returning to his prior ministrations. He muttered something before another metallic sound echoed throughout the back of the van.

It wasn't exactly hard to make out that she wasn't going to be an issue for much longer.

"Wake up." Hisao jolted up. Whereas the man before might've brought the covers over his head, the man now knew that he was wasting time by doing so. Thom tossed a bag onto Hisao's cot. The impact it made was enough to completely wake him up.

Rubbing one of his eyes, he grabbed one of the handles on it. It was a duffel bag, big enough to hold a great array of equipment. He thumbed one of the straps, attempting to guess what was inside, without results.

Thom passed the curtain separating the cots from the rest of the room, before returning shortly with yet another bag, which looked less hefty. He tossed it unceremoniously onto Miki's cot. She jolted up as well, tossing a bout of cursing outward.

"What is it?" Hisao asked, his voice mostly monotone.

"Mostly stolen goods." Thom said flatly. He saw the look on Hisao's face. "It's not a bloody VCR, open it up."

Hisao sighed, still slightly miffed at the rude awakening. He took the main zipper in his hands and opened the large bag up. The opening slowly revealed what looked like… a vest? It black, about the same color as the bag. It had 6 pouches in the front, and a zipper down the middle. Hisao picked it up with one hand, it was sturdy material. He looked up to catch Thom walking back in with another bag.

"Where did you get a load-bearing vest?" Thom didn't bother answering, instead he walked over to Akira's bed, launching yet another bag into her lap. Luckily, she already seemed awake, thanks to Miki's cursing. Miki herself had taken the vest in her… hand and was pressing it against her chest.

"It's your size." Hisao told the girl across from him. She gave a short sound of recognition before looking back into her bag. Suddenly, her eyebrows raised in shock, before dropping the vest and reaching her functional hand into the bag.

Hisao looked back into his own bag, interesting in what surprised Miki. His own eyebrows rose as he saw what was inside.

A 9mm submachine gun, manufactured by Heckler & Koch lay dead-center at the bottom of the bag, complete with a few magazines to the right of it. They all gleamed softly in the minute light. Hisao gently picked up the gun, making sure the safety was off. He held it in the two of his hands.

Thom simply stood there, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. Hisao turned to look at him, a confused glare in his eye.

"They were… expensive stolen goods." He turned his head to watch as Kenji strode in through the curtain, fully equipped in his new gear. Hisao had to admit, it was some serious hardware Thom managed to get for them.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

"Hey guys, check this out." Kenji said before pointing his gun at imaginary enemies to his right and left, miming pulling the trigger. He spun a quick 180, dropping on one knee. Throughout all of this, Akira watched him, a bored look on her face.

"Is the safety on…?" She droned, evidently not a morning person. Kenji's blank face revealed nothing, before he reached up. A short click emanated from the gun. Miki grinned ear to ear, Akira however, made no reaction.

She lifted the bag off of her lap before mumbling something about how Kenji was going to kill them all. Hisao meanwhile, had more pressing matters on his mind. Ones that he needed answered.

"Why did you get all of this?" He asked Thom, who was busy reaching into his own bag. He turned upward in response to Hisao's ceaseless questioning.

"Well I suppose I'll give it to you straight. Your girl's being moved somewhere and we're going to intercept them along the route. The vests are there so you don't die, the guns are there to make sure they die." He quickly put on the vest, followed by him picking up his own weapon.

Hisao was stunned, too overwhelmed by his conflicting thoughts on this situation, and the man standing next to him. Thom turned around and walked back through the curtain. He called out to the team still surrounded by a shroud of fabric.

"Are you coming or what?"


	15. Riding in on a Dark Horse

Rain pelted the front of the windshield, before being swept soon off due to the velocity of the car. Switching lanes, they continued forward on the highway, passing through the business district of the city. A few cars displayed their displeasure by honking at the black sedan, but the driver paid no mind. Akira pushed down on the pedal slightly, bringing the car up to 70 mph.

The car increased in speed, along with the rain which threatened to break through the windshield. Skyscrapers to either side of them were a blur, offering only small glimpses of the harbor beyond. The water's surface was agitated, waved rose and broke on the distant docks. Another gust of wind blew into the car, sending a watery spray across the road surface. Akira's steady hands corrected their course, before swerving into another lane.

The five of them filled the car out to its max occupancy, and Miki appeared to be slightly miffed that she had to be squeezed in between Thom and Kenji. Thom was holding a small tablet, using his finger to flip through something. Hisao had seen the screen earlier, he had pulled up a map of the convoy's route. How he had gotten that information was another matter. He was helping, for the time being that was all Hisao needed.

He sat in the passenger seat, gun in hand. He reached into his pocket, trying to find something that had become very familiar to him. Finding it, he brought it out to examine it. It was a small coin, crudely made through hammer and fire. A small embossment of roman numerals ran along the edge. What made it unique however, was the weight. Any time one would flip it, it would only land on one side. Only Hisao knew with certainty what side it would always land on. He quickly slipped it back into his pocket.

Thom made another swipe with his tablet, before speaking up. "Change of plans." This comment turned the heads of everyone in the car, including Akira. She quickly realized her mistake, snapping her head back to the front of the car.

"What do you mean, 'change of plans'? I thought you said they were solid!" Kenji exclaimed, obviously quite on edge. It didn't help that he showed the team not 2 hours prior his apparent lack of marksman skills.

Thom turned towards Kenji. "What I mean, is that at our speed we have no chance to intercept them in the industrial area." He pointed it out on the map. Thom was right, the convoy was already well ahead of them, and moving fast.

"…Then what?" Kenji continued.

"I was getting to that. You see, we need a spot that's both a choke point, and before their destination." Thom replied, looking at the tablet once more. "So, you know, we can get her."

"Thom, I can't see shit from up here." Akira said, accentuated with yet another frantic lane change. Another honking commuter made its presence known, complete with a not-so silent curse from her.

"Osaka Bay bridge."

Seconds of silence resounded through the small interior of the vehicle. Finally, a voice uncomfortably close to Thom spoke up.

"You can't be serious." Miki said, still in shock from the revelation. She rubbed her wrist a little heavier.

"The bridge spanning the entire harbor? Jesus Thom, I thought you wanted to keep this quiet." Akira chuckled as she forced the car to go faster and faster. Her point was agreed with by practically everyone else in the car.

"We'd be crazy to even try." Kenji nodded. "Are there seriously no other points?" He asked. Another gust of wind sent a lone traffic cone careening across the road, Akira swerved to avoid it.

"Believe me, I've checked. Right where the bridge ends the whole industrial maze begins, we won't be able to block them there." Thom said, looking down at the tablet once more. He made an expanding motion with his fingers, zooming into the bridge. "Look here, we'll take a position at the middle of the bridge."

"This isn't a question of 'if we can do it', Thom." Miki piped up. "We're bringing civilians into this." Of course, she had her own reasons for being reluctant to put uninvolved people in the crossfire. Reasons that she probably wouldn't talk about.

"Hey." Akira got the attention of everyone in the car. "The off-ramp's coming up, you guys need to make a decision now." A sign up ahead informed them that the exit was in 0.2 km, before the car swiftly zoomed past it.

Thom sighed, trying to relieve the pressure of the situation. He looked toward a man who had stayed quiet for the majority of the discussion. "You've been quiet Hisao, what do you think?"

Hisao continued his stare out the passenger-side window, watching the rain impact the world around him. Another burst of wind sent a chunk of rain into his window, snapping him back to his senses. His brow was slightly furrowed, the sign of a man deep in thought.

"If this is a chance to save her, then we need to take it." The car remained silent for a few solid moments. How could they argue that? Either knowingly or unwillingly, Hisao had guilt-tripped the rest of them into complying.

"…I guess that's a yes then." Akira steered the car into the right lane, taking the next exit, emerging on one of the main bolevards. Even here, the streets remained empty save for a few cars.

"Where is everyone?" Miki said, looking out one of the windows.

"They might've used the storm as cover. They're not going to take a hostage across a city during rush hour." Thom said, thumbing the bolt of his submachine-gun.

The storm was picking up, blowing the trees dividing the road to and fro. Another burst of watery spray blew across the road, before colliding with Akira's car. The rain continued its unrelenting assault against the window, barely being beat back by the windshield wipers. Hisao recalled hearing something about a typhoon back in the safehouse, someone had tuned the hilariously small TV to one of the news channels.

This might get worse before it gets better.

Akira sped through the empty intersections, passing only a few vehicles as she went through a residential district. She certainly ran through more than one red-light, but that wasn't going to be the biggest crime they'd all commit today.

"How are we doing on time?" Akira asked as she turned onto a side-street, trying to save as much time as possible. A few bits of trash blew across the asphalt, caught in the gale.

"We have about a five minute window." Thom said, redirecting his attention back to the driver. He made a few taps on his tablet. "Yeah, make that 4 minutes and 30 seconds."

Hisao didn't need to look at her to see Akira roll her eyes. She pulled away from the street, heading back onto another main road. There were a few pedestrians milling about on the sidewalk, they lazily turned their heads in the direction of the speeding car.

Kenji sighed, obviously still not comfortable with this new plan. No one really was, he was just the most vocal about it. "How are we going to ambush them on the bridge? It's not like we'll be concealed at all." Kenji raised a point, making even Thom pause for thought. In the end, it was Hisao that spoke.

"The bridge is slightly raised, so we'll be hidden from them when the enter the bridge. They won't be suspicious about one car parked on the side of the bridge, when they get close Akira will drive the car to block both lanes. When she does this we all burst out of cover and give them hell." He spoke this all with one breath, as if he had been considering and revising this plan from the moment he stepped into the car.

Thom smiled, he was certainly surprised at the sudden show of tactics in his associate. He soon noticed the eyes of his two companions in the backseat fixated on him, however. "What?" He asked. "It is a good plan."

Akira turned the car onto the highway ramp, the bridge was in sight now. Fifteen thousand tons of steel stretched over the harbor, a stalwart structure in the face of the impending storm. Made only recently, in the closing days of 2016, the modern bridge was designed to link the both sides of the harbor.

A flashing yellow light warned them to be careful for conditions on the road, which was on the least of their worries right now. There were a few cars ahead and behind them, even though it wasn't rush hour, it never seemed as if the city was quiet. Akira passed yet another car, speeding ahead to keep the time bubble.

"They're coming from the opposite lane, right?" Kenji asked, double-checking his gun. The short clicks echoed around the enclosed interior of the car.

"Looks like it, yeah." Thom breathed out, following suit with Kenji and examining his gun, dropping the tablet on the floor of the car. Miki followed suit, though she had been given a pistol instead of a submachine-gun. Hisao lazily examined his own weapon. It'd work, that's all he needed from it.

Akira grinded her teeth as she neared the precipice of the bridge, she pulled into the left lane. The divider separating the two lanes had a gap in the center of the bridge, and Akira pulled off the main road right before it. They were right underneath a large overhanding metal structure, the main support of the bridge.

Miki winced as more and more cars passed them by. Were they being examined by them? God forbid a police car pass them by. "Thom, this is a lot of people."

"It's fine." Thom replied, slipping his extra magazines into his vest.

"Yeah, but-"

"It's fine, Miki. No one's getting caught in the crossfire." This time Hisao replied, trying his best to soothe Miki's nerves. Even he doubted that his cool voice could comfort anyone. Miki leant back in her seat, thumbing the hammer of her gun half-mindedly.

As soon as the car was stopped, Akira took the chance to ready herself with the gun she had thrown on the floor. A myriad of clicks and clacks emerged from the front seat as she got herself oriented, her flat cap sat crooked on her head. She hummed softly, seemingly satisfied with her setup.

"Time." Hisao muttered into the backseat, his white knuckled grasped the gun even harder.

Thom reached for the tablet on the floor, turning it on quickly. His expression kept cool as he read the screen. "One minute."

Hisao had often asked himself in the past few days if he was ready. Sometimes, he felt that he wasn't. Sometimes he felt that he was. But he was so close now.

He had to be ready. He couldn't fail.


End file.
